


Challenge One: (Con)Quest

by Pornalot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pornalot, Pornalot 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 00:39:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pornalot/pseuds/Pornalot
Summary: Entries for the first Pornalot 2017 weekly challenge: (Con)Quest





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Behold the porny entries for week one of the 2017 Pornalot fest!
> 
> Each entry has individual warnings but they have not been mod-checked so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](http://pornalot.livejournal.com/9856.html)

1

 **Title:** Novice  
**Warnings:** sexual harassment  
**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin, references to past Arthur/Leon

Arthur is engrossed in the task of grooming, murmuring softly to the capricious grey stallion as he combs down its coat, taking comfort in the solid warmth under his hands. He likes working with the horses, likes that he's mostly left in peace, not too keen on human company since he came back from the war.

When someone pointedly clears their throat behind his back, startling both him and the horse, Arthur curses himself. He forgot that there's a party at the manor today. It's not unusual for some of the guests to venture down to the stables.

“Your ladyship.” Arthur pulls off his cap, acknowledging the blond girl. As far as he can tell, Lady Vivian is a spoiled brat without much of an independent thought in her head. “What can I do for you?”

“My friends and I want to go for a ride,” she says curtly. “I want you to saddle up Buttercup and two other horses—“

“How about this one?” A dark haired girl comes up behind Vivian, painted lips curling into an uppity smile. Her eyes travel up and down Arthur's body with obvious appreciation. “He looks strong. I certainly would enjoy taking him through his paces.”

Arthur's face remains expressionless. “Excalibur is quite temperamental,” he says, calming the horse with a gentle touch. “He needs an experienced rider.”

The girl steps closer and puts a hand on Arthur's chest, stroking over the fabric of his shirt. “Don't worry. I know how to handle a rough ride.”

Arthur forces himself to stand still and not react. It's hardly the first time he's been propositioned. He knows these people see little more in him than a object to fit their momentary whims—much like the horses he's tending to.

“I'm afraid his Lordship's instructions—“

“I'm sure he'll find you another horse,” Vivian interjects with a glare at Arthur. “Daddy doesn't even let me ride Excalibur.”

As they walk away, her friend shoots him a salacious look over her shoulder. Luckily, Arthur has lost his ability to blush a long time ago.

Picking up the tack, he does his best to ignore the not-so-hushed whispers coming from outside, but when he steps into the bay of the first horse, he is stopped short. There's a boy standing next to the chestnut mare, petting her nose. Truthfully, he's probably not that much younger than him, but the war has aged Arthur beyond his years. The boy is staring at him like he's been caught in a crime, making Arthur wonder how long he's been in here. What he has heard.

“Vivian says you have your eyes on the stable boy,” a teasing voice can be heard just then.

“I certainly wouldn't mind taking that hunk for a ride.”

“Good Lord, he's not even a gentleman!” Vivian sounds more gleeful than scandalized.

“I know. I bet he fucks like an animal.”

The boy is blushing to the roots of his hair now, apparently innocent enough to be shocked by such words. He looks well bred, with high cheekbones and pale skin, his light summer suit pristine in a way that raises the urge to muss him up. When Arthur silently raises his eyebrows, the boy ducks his head and quickly steps past him, stumbling over his own feet in his haste to get away. It makes Arthur smile to himself as he saddles the horses.

Since the day is hot, Arthur's shirt is clinging uncomfortably to his back by the end of it. He pulls it off by the trough and sticks his head under the spout, pumping the handle until water cascades over his neck and shoulders, running down his chest and trickling along his spine into the waist of his trousers. He shakes his head like a dog before picking up a rag to dry his face. That's when he catches the boy lurking from the corner of his eye.

“Something you want?” he asks, keeping his back turned.

The boy steps out of the shadows, gnawing at his lips which makes them look red and used. There's something almost sweet about him, a contrast to the determined look in his eyes.

“I'm—my name is Merlin.”

Arthur turns around. “Okay.”

“I heard what they said. Nimueh and Sophia and Viv. Before.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. Merlin's eyes seem caught on Arthur's chest.

“Do you... did you—? With her?”

“Does it matter?”

Merlin looks away and shrugs, and Arthur regards him contemplatively as he pulls a pack of cigarettes from his trousers. He shakes one out and sticks it between his lips before lighting it and taking a first drag.

“Do you want to know what it feels like?” he asks, leaning back against the trough.

Merlin shoots him a startled look. “No.” He swallows. “Yes.”

“Well, what is it?”

“I want to know. Just—not with a girl.”

His face is bright red now.

“You want to know how it feels like between men.”

Merlin nods.

“Why do you think I'd be able to tell you?”

Merlin's eyes widen. “I—I'm sorry, I thought—” he stutters, mortification evident, and Arthur realises with a pang that this is how he must have looked like, back then. A lifetime ago.   
  
He closes his eyes, and for a moment allows himself to remember Leon's tousled red hair. His bright smile. The feel of his scruff against Arthur's skin. He tries not to think of his vacant eyes, lying in the mud of Ypres.   
  
“It feels different,” he says quietly. “Between men. More honest.” At least, that's how it has been for him.   
  
He drops his cigarette, grinds it out with his heel, and slowly walks over to Merlin. He hesitates before he raises his hand. Runs the tips of his calloused fingers along the soft line of the boy's mouth.   
  
“I can show you, if you want.”

 

 

2

 **Warnings:** unintentional half-sibling incest  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Morgana

_Come to the training grounds for a real tourney…_

The note hadn't been signed but Arthur wasn't surprised to see Morgana on the field, her figure wrapped in chainmail, running smoothly through her stances. He watched her for a moment before clearing his throat, sword hanging uselessly in his hand.

She shook her head when she saw him. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to fight for your kingdom?”

“Oh, this is for the kingdom, is it?” Arthur laughed, knowing they were both going to get in trouble with Uther for missing the proper tourney but he never could resist Morgana’s games.

“Got to keep it interesting,” Morgana said, raising her blade to his and beckoning him closer. They clashed a couple of times before Arthur pulled back again. Morgana rolled her eyes, knowing he wasn’t giving it his all. “What about right of conquest then?”

“Conquest?” Arthur asked but Morgana only raised her eyebrows, lifting her sword again, parrying his thrusts and getting in a few of her own.

“Come on, you're not even trying,” she teased, stepping into his personal space before tripping him easily and straddling his hips, pinning him to the ground.

“I’m just warming up,” Arthur countered, stroking over her metal-clad waist before lifting her off.

Not buying it, Morgana drew a chalk line down the board, under her name before she upped the stakes. “This land you'd be conquering… it would be virgin territory.”

This time it was Arthur’s eyebrows that shot up, his grip faltering on his staff, the next weapon in their little tournament. “It is?”

Morgana grinned as wood struck wood. “I'm assuming the same can be said of your territory?”

This time it was Arthur’s wood that struck hard, pushing Morgana a step back although she didn't wipe the smirk off her face. She even laughed as her back hit the ground, her knee stinging where the staff had taken her leg out. “That's more like it!”

Arthur kept his eyes on her, propped up on her elbows on the ground, as he drew his own chalk line on the board. “Tell me more about this territory I'll be taking.”

Morgana drew her knees up, rubbing them together as she looked up at him. “It's quite pleasant by all accounts. Dark and shaded private land, hot and wet in climate, very welcoming… but it belongs to me. You’ll have to win it first.”

Arthur swallowed, looking for the last weapon but there were only the discarded ones they’d already fought with. “And how do I go about that exactly?”

“Hand to hand combat,” Morgana answered with a grin as she reached out and curled her hand around his ankle, pulling him down on the ground beside her and swinging her leg over him, a mirror of how she’d had him before. Only this time she squeezed her thighs tight around his hips, grinding down on his cock.

“I'm not sure this counts as hand to hand,” Arthur pointed out although he certainly wasn't complaining.

“Perhaps you should put your hands on me then,” Morgana suggested, rolling her hips again with a hitched gasp, momentarily distracted enough let him roll her over, legs spreading out under the weight of him.

For a time, she let his hands wander over her body, learning the curve of her hips and the rise and fall of her chest but when she felt his hand on her thigh, pushing up her chainmail skirt and reaching further, Morgana shifted her weight, using her knee to push him off and take control again. “You haven’t won yet.”

“But I thought...” Arthur started; gesturing to how she’d made herself comfortable in his lap again, wriggling side to side over his cock, getting comfortable.

“Last stage of combat, to the... _death_ ,” she whispered as she leaned down into him, her cunt perfectly pressed against his cock, enough to send sparks of pleasure through her despite the layers of clothing between them.

Morgana braced her hand on his shoulder plate, gliding back and forth over his cock, moving as though she were taking it in earnest, closing her eyes to imagine it as she nuzzled into his neck. She could tell from the little sounds he made and the beads of sweat on the nape of his neck that he was close and with the way her thighs trembled and burned, her nails scratching uselessly over metal, she couldn’t deny she was too. Biting back a moan and turning it into a determined growl, she pushed upwards, her hands on his chest as she arched her back, thinking of nothing but the sharp thrust of her hips against him and the press of his cock hard against her, an endless war that she was resolute not to lose.

She sighed triumphantly when she felt Arthur tense under her, a pool of heat forming under her cunt as he stained his breeches with his seed, his moan more like a surrender to her ears. Rolling onto the grass beside him, she slipped her hand into her trousers, quickly stroking her clit to keep her momentum going, rocking her hips up into her own touch, feverishly thinking about her prize as she gave into pleasure, eyes closed against the blinding sunlight as she came, imagining herself buried deep in Arthur’s arse.

Lying back against the grass for a moment, she basked in bliss until she felt him move beside her. “Don’t you dare touch that scoreboard, I won that one.”

Craning her head up, she watched as he purposefully ignored her and picked up the chalk, drawing another line under her name before offering her a hand up.

“Midnight,” Morgana said excitedly, smoothing down her chainmail before she started back up towards the castle. “I’ll expect my prize hand delivered, ideally wrapped in some sort of bow.”

Arthur laughed and shook his head, wondering what the hell she had planned.

 

3

 **Warnings:** bad grammar  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

“Fuck,” Arthur groaned as he thrust deep into the tight heat of the man currently bent over the toilet. The man moaned loudly and pushed back, sheathing Arthur even deeper in him. His hands were clawing at the tiles over the toilet and his eyes were closed. Arthur’s hands tug deep into his hips, probably leaving marks. Arthur still couldn’t believe this was actually happening; and all because of stupid, genius Gwaine.

Gwaine, his ever annoying roommate since University, had somehow gotten tickets for comic con and despite this being absolutely not his scene, he had dragged Arthur along with the promise of a lot of hot girls dressed as hot video game characters.

Comic Con turned out to be a lot more fun than Arthur had expected, so when Gwaine suggested to participate at the comic con quest to win tickets for next year, he had willingly agreed. He should have known better though.

Gwaine, completely shitfaced on the Friday night, had found the idea of a quest at a con so funny, he had decided to combine the words and struck a bargain with Arthur; whoever would conquer another con attendee first would do the dishes for the next month.

Arthur, not exactly sober himself, had agreed and so his eyes had landed on a sweet looking, dark skinned woman, dressed as a princess the next day. He had just managed to talk to her for five minutes when a skinny guy with messy dark hair and big ears, dressed as an elf, interrupted them. Looking at him, Arthur could have never imagined bending him over the toilet only an hour later, but that was exactly what he was doing right now.

“Fuck, harder,” the dark haired man, Merlin, but Arthur wasn’t sure if that was his name or the name of the character he was dressed up as, nearly screamed. He removed his hand from Merlin’s hip so he could put it over his mouth before anyone would hear them and barge in. Merlin bit his fingers and made guttural noises that were erotic enough they could have pushed Arthur over the edge.

Gosh, the man felt good. Maybe Gwaine had been right, maybe a good fuck was all he had needed and even though Arthur preferred his hookups in a real bed, he had to admit this was a really good fuck.

“Touch me, fuck touch me,” Merlin moaned as Arthur's hand slipped from his move. His cock was as hard as a rock as it hang over the toilet.

“You need to be more quiet if you want me to touch you. Can you do that for me?” Arthur said to him, already teasing Merlin’s erection with light, barely there touches.

Merlin only nodded, clearly channelling all his willpower to be as silent as possible.

“Good,” Arthur bit his ear and wrapped his fingers around Merlin’s cock. It was hot and thick, longer than Arthur would have suspected.

“Yes, oh Yes, oh Yes,” Merlin kept mumbling.

Arthur desperately wanted the same but he knew, once he started he would not be able to hold back is screams. Instead he kissed and bit along Merlin’s shoulder blades as he moved his fist faster along Merlin's cock.

He could feel Merlin getting closer to coming just as he was. Merlin just felt too good to hold back much longer.

A few more thrusts and he pushed Merlin over the edge. With a loud shout he came in Arthur's hand. The way Merlin's body moved through his orgasm was too much for him, he followed Merlin's climax just a few seconds later.

With a moan he emptied himself in Merlin, unable to breath for a few moments afterwards. Once his racing heart had calmed down enough, he slipped out of Merlin and threw the condom in the toilet.

"My name is Arthur, by the way," he said after a few minutes of silence and opened the door. They both looked wrecked but decent enough to leave the cubicle.

"Merlin, but I already told you that."

"Is that really your name? I thought that was your costume."

"It's called cosplay and yes that is my real name," Merlin sounded defensive before his voice softened again. With a smirk he added "Does that mean you won your conquest?"

"What?" Arthur asked shocked.

"Your conquest. I sat at the table next to you guys on Friday. Mithian owns me 20 pounds now; she bet I couldn't spin your conquest to my satisfaction. Guess I just did."

Arthur was too dumbfounded to reply. He definitely hadn't expected that.

 

4

 **Warnings:** non-con, sexual slavery  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

Prince Merlin Ambrosius stared at the man on his bed. He had once been Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, but Aigialla came from the east and had conquered the magic hating kingdom. It was far too easy, Aigialla had the dragons and magic on their side. Camelot didn't stand a chance.

They had been prepared to execute the King and Prince of Camelot. Merlin had stood proudly by his father's side when Arthur had caught his eye. The conquered Prince was enchanting. He wanted to have him. He had asked his father to spare the kingdom's Prince, to allow him to take him as a pet. With some hesitation, King Balinor gave in.

Now his new pet was waiting for him. He had been prepared already, kneeling naked on Merlin's bed, save for a beautiful jeweled collar that was fit snugly around his neck. He was gagged. His arms were bound behind him, showcasing his perfectly sculpted chest and flaccid member. Merlin longed to see it erect.

The Aigiallaian Prince reached forward, taking the perfect length in his hand. The disgraced Prince grunted, trying to move away.

“There is no escape from me,” Merlin whispered. His eyes glowed gold and Arthur was frozen in place as Merlin joined his pet on the bed. Arthur looked terrified. He had always been told tales of how sorcery was evil and would harm him if given the chance. Now those tales were coming true.

Merlin gasped, a small smile forming on his face as Arthur's cock hardened. It was exquisite, he had to have the prince. He pushed the man onto his back. He wanted to see that beautiful cock and those enchanting eyes as he fucked him. He muttered a spell and summoned up a jar of oil. He didn't want his pet broken on the first day. He dipped in fingers in and inserted one into the slave's hole.

Arthur tried to show no emotion, but he couldn't hide his wince of discomfort at the penetration. Merlin merely smiled down at him as he moved his finger in and out, soon adding another, and then a third. Arthur was letting his discomfort and pain show now. It was only making Merlin harder. He removed his fingers and got off the bed.

He quickly stripped down, letting Arthur look upon the body of his new master. He was much skinnier than Arthur was, not trained in swordplay but in magic instead. He was the almighty Emrys. He could bring down armies with it.

He dipped his hand in the oil once more, coating his own erect cock. He moved back to the bed, smirking as Arthur's eyes widened once more. He settled between his slave's legs, holding them up so he could position himself. With a quick spell the gag in Arthur's mouth disappeared.

“I want to hear you scream for me, pet,” Merlin explained before thrusting into his slave.

Arthur cried out, still unable to move unless Merlin himself moved him. Merlin began to moan as he thrust in and out, moving to grip Arthur's hips, digging his nails into the tender flesh. He cared little for the man's comfort at the moment. He was only focused on his own pleasure.

He shuddered in delight when Arthur began to moan as well. It would seem he managed to pleasure the conquered Prince after all. He reached and took the man's length in his hand, stroking it in time with his thrusts while his other hand played with the slave's nipples.

Arthur began to writhe beneath him, starting to sob, moan and scream simultaneously. The Aigiallaian Prince was not gentle with any of his touches, yet they brought Arthur pleasure all the same.

Merlin tensed up, coming with a loud cry. Arthur cringed as he felt the man's come coat his insides. Despite that horrible feeling he couldn't hold back his own cry as he came as well, come splatting over his bare chest.

Merlin panted, pulling out of his pet and laying next to him, tracing his face lightly with a finger. The fallen Prince was absolutely exquisite. He would be a fine pet for the Aigiallaian prince. Merlin leaned over, gently kissing the sobbing man's cheek, licking away the salty tears.

“Don't cry, slave. Your time has only begun.”

 

5

 **Warnings:** Pheremones, incubus/magical creatures, self lubrication, mates  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

Merlin walks past three other clubs before he reaches the entrance to Camelot. He stands outside for twenty minutes before he finally decides to go inside. The huge hulk of a man guarding the door just blinks at him as Merlin pushes his way past the queue and slips inside the club.

He knows he’s waited too long. He feels weak and off-kilter from going so long between meals. He’s on a quest to feed and he knows he can’t push it off any longer. He’s practically starving and waiting any longer could be dangerous. He just needs to get in, get fed, and get out.

The crowd parts for him as he walks past the dance floor. He can feel all eyes on him as he goes; his incubus pheromones enticing anyone close enough to scent him.

Just the smell of lust and sex permeating the club helps take the edge off of his hunger, but it’s not enough. He knows he’ll have to find someone to touch to fully sate himself.

He looks over those gathered around him and knows he should just pick someone and be done with it.

A roguishly handsome man grins at him and Merlin makes his choice.

He grabs his hand and slips into a back hallway. It’s long, dark, and deserted -- perfect for his needs.

“I’m Gwaine. What’s your name?” Tall, dark, and handsome asks as he pushes Merlin up against the wall. Their hips press together and a jolt of pleasure goes through Merlin when they collide.

“Merlin,” he moans against Gwaine’s mouth.

“Nice to meet you, Merlin,” Gwaine says, their lips still pressed together.

Merlin’s just reached for Gwaine’s zip when he feels a prickle go up his spine. He looks up over Gwaine’s shoulder and sees _him_. He’s golden and beautiful -- possibly the hottest person Merlin has ever seen in real life.

The reaction in Merlin is instantaneous. It feels like a shock of electricity going through his body. His heart skips a beat as every muscle in his body clenches and sings out for his _Mate_.

The man just stares at them for a moment before stepping closer.

“Gwaine,” he growls. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Hey, Boss.” Gwaine pulls away, and Merlin lets him go.

Gwaine looks between the two of them but Merlin only has eyes for the other man. Gwaine shrugs easily. “Yeah, sure. We were just having a spot of fun.”

Merlin can only imagine what his face looks like at he stares wide-eyed at the Golden Adonis mere steps away.

“Nice meeting you, Merlin.” Gwaine shoots him a grin as he backs down the hall. “See you later, Arthur.”

 _Arthur_ \-- Merlin’s heart sings at the sound of his Mates name.

Arthur glares at Gwaine until he’s out of sight, then returns that intense attention to Merlin once more.

Merlin reaches for him, anxious to touch, but Arthur just grabs his hand in a tight grip and leads him down the hallway to a closed door.

Once inside, Arthur’s hands are all over him and the edges of Merlin’s vision turn blurry as pleasure reverberates between them.

They kiss slow and languid for long moments,

Merlin had only expected to feed, but this is so much better.

When they finally break apart, Arthur just stares at him.

”Oh, please,” Merlin begs.“Need you so much.” Merlin yanks him close again, his hands going down to unbutton Arthur’s trousers.

He gets his hand wrapped around Arthur’s length. He’s long and hot and perfect as he bucks up into Merlin’s grip but Merlin wants so much more.

“Please fuck me. Take me now.”

It’s all Arthur needs to hear. He spins Merlin around, bends him over the desk, and yanks his tight pants down over his arse, letting them fall down to his knees.

Merlin arches his back and pushes back into Arthur’s grip.

Merlin can feel his arse already wet and leaking when Arthur pulls his cheeks apart and just stares.

Arthur traces a finger down Merlin’s crack, circles his hole, and teases over his rim.

“You’re wet,” Arthur says, lips pressed between Merlin’s shoulder blades.

“Mmhmm,” Merlin agrees, shoving back and encouraging Arthur to give him more. Arthur just teases -- slides his finger over Merlin’s pucker, pets his rim with small soothing strokes of his thumb as Merlin clenches and whines to be filled.

“Please,” Merlin whimpers.

Finally, Arthur presses inside, crooks his fingers and rubs over Merlin’s prostate on his first try.

Merlin shoves back, blissed out as he fucks himself on Arthur’s hand until he’s moaning Arthur’s name over and over again.

With just a few more thrusts, Arthur slides his fingers out and replaces them with his cock, hot and hard between his cheeks.

He slides easily inside Merlin’s wet hole, pushing so slow until he’s completely bottomed out.

Arthur rolls his hips before sliding out and in again.

“More…” Merlin urges him on as Arthur’s hips thrust faster.

He slides his hand around Merlin’s front, grabs his cock and strokes him along to the same rhythm. Merlin can feel it building, larger than anything he's ever felt before.

“Oh, please. Yes...” Merlin mewls against the sleek surface of the desk, his hot breath leaving streaks of fog against the glass desktop as Arthur fucks into him desperately, his dick ramming deep into Merlin’s ass.

The sensation grows between them and it’s delicious. Merlin doesn’t resist it even though it feels too big, like the pleasure might tear him apart from the inside out.

He clenches his eyes shut and rides the ebb and flow of pain-pleasure until it crests.

Merlin’s whole body trembles with satisfaction as Arthur’s orgasm crashes over him.

He takes a moment to savor the feeling of Arthur spilling inside him before his whole body tightens and Merlin follows him over the edge.

With a shout, he paints the surface of Arthur’s desk with streaks of come, his hunger satisfied in a way that Merlin has never experienced before.

 

6

 **Warnings:** Dub-con  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

The last of the omegas hurried into the woods as Merlin laid shivering on his bed. Some had fled at the first mention of Merlin’s coming off age. Others had stayed, wanting to be close, longing for it. The closer the final hour of Merlin’s childhood approached, however, the more his power swelled until every single omega’s instincts had taken them out of town.

 

The clock struck twelve. Merlin roared. The omegas’ flesh erupted in goosebumps. Merlin’s windows chattered and a dragon emerged.

 

Merlin spread his wings, catching the current of the air, and climbed up in the air. He flared his nostrils. The city was tainted with smells, but none of them were what he was looking for. All he could focus on was getting away from this place that was wrong. He felt wrong

 

A fire was growing in his belly, consuming him until it devoured his mind. He inhaled, but the oxygen only fanned the flames and the smell even more so as it still wasn’t right.

 

He worked his wings, making for the woods. He let out a roar, wanting to burn it all down. When he swooped low over the trees, the smell of omegas burst forth from between the tops, and they fed his anger. None of them were his.

 

A flame escaped from between his lips. The top of a pine tree caught fire. Merlin kept moving and left the woods behind him.

 

Mountains rose up in front of Merlin. He steered right of them, when a smell penetrated his thoughts. _His_ smell. He swept down, catching sight of _him_ , and snatched him up in his mouth, careful not to bite down on him.

 

Landing in front of a cave, Merlin dropped him carefully before changing into his human form.

 

The smell was less strong like this. It didn’t make his thoughts any clearer.

 

He charged towards the man, baring his teeth. The man didn’t see it, curled up in a ball, whimpering.

 

Merlin picked him up, patting his hair, and carried him inside the cave. In the back of the cave, he spelled a fire and laid _him_ down next to it. Fire roaring, Merlin caressed the omega.

 

His skin was smooth and warm, though it didn’t held a candle to Merlin’s. Merlin pulled off the omega’s clothes, and noticed the sweat beading all over. Merlin wiped at his chest and licked his hand, eyes closing at the taste. The man moaned.

 

Merlin shed his own clothes and plastered himself to the man’s back, cradling him in his arms. His nose was pressed to the omega’s neck and he gave it a whiff, claws piercing the omega’s skin as the dragon inside rumbled.

 

Merlin canted his hips and entered the man, discovering the warmth that was ten times greater within. As he bottomed out, the fire consumed them both.

 

He pulled out only to push back in, desperate to feel his cock drag along those walls, to cause the clenching that made the warmth hug tight.

 

The omega whimpered and bared his neck. The dragon smiled, pleased, but Merlin couldn’t give in yet.

 

He pulled his cock out, again, letting the sparks of _his_ touch focus on the head as Merlin nearly left his hole empty. Flames ran along his spine and Merlin couldn’t bare it, but needing to feel it all over at the same time. His hips canted forward.

 

As he started to repeat the movement, lost in the frantic rhythm, the base of his cock caught on the omega’s rim, and Merlin’s eyes rolled back. A wave of energy rolled over him as he gave a final push, burying himself inside the omega.

 

Merlin pulled the omega close to his chest. His neck was still bared and Merlin bit down with the same force with which his cock was spilling seed inside the omega’s body.

 

The omega cried out.

 

“Shh,” Merlin whispered. “You’re a dragonlord, too, now. Together we can conquer the world.”

 

Beneath him, the omega stilled, skin already turning scaly.

 

7

 **Title** : Hide and Seek, Merlin Style  
**Pairing(s)** : Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Gwaine  
**Warnings** : sensory deprivation

_Arthur has you on a tight leash, doesn’t he?_

_Who cares what the princess thinks._

_You really should play with us tonight and be the one we seek. It is, after all, the ultimate quest… to find and fuck whoever it is that is hiding. You need a good fucking by someone other than Arthur._

Gwaine’s _words of wisdom_ from earlier in the day continued to swirl around Merlin’s thoughts, and he wondered if perhaps his wayward friend had a point. As much as Merlin loved Arthur, he had to agree that his entire world seemed to revolve around the prince these days.

“Hellloooo Merlin. Where are you?” said an exasperated Arthur, looking none too pleased from his vantage point beneath his manservant-turned lover. “Usually you make a right fool of yourself when I ask you to fuck me, but you don’t seem to be enjoying it today. What, might I ask could possibly be better than what we are doing?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing,” was Merlin’s half-arsed reply as he pulled out and pushed back in, thinking he had no business fantasizing about fucking Gwaine or anyone else when he had such a lovely specimen beneath him. He leant down and kissed Arthur, closing his eyes, knowing that there was no way Gwaine could ever measure up.

But Merlin couldn’t deny that he wanted to see what all the fuss was about. He wanted to know just why Leon and Percival shared Gwaine’s bed night after night. The two had been together for months, but after a drunken night in the Rising Sun, the three had been inseparable.

Merlin sighed. He needed to rid himself of these thoughts.

“You can’t lie to save your life, Merlin,” Arthur said before he harrumphed. “I saw Gwaine talking to you earlier. He asked you to play hide and seek tonight didn’t he?” Arthur repositioned himself so that Merlin could go deeper. “And I am guessing he wants you to be the one they seek,” Arthur whispered. “Don’t let me stop you. As long as I can play, that is,” he amended as he used his legs to pull Merlin flush against him before bucking up into him.

Later that night, his only light the full moon, Merlin huddled in his hiding place, giddy with anticipation. It could happen at any moment.

Either Gwaine or Arthur would soon find him.

There was a huge part of him that wanted it to be Gwaine—that was, after all, the only reason Merlin was playing this silly game—but now that he was here, waiting, there was an even larger part of him that wanted it to be Arthur. He needed to know that the man he had devoted his life to would stop at nothing to claim that which was his.

There was shuffling in the distance.

Merlin’s nerves were on fire, the same as his cock. Per custom, he was already naked, his cock jutting out, on its way to his belly. He had been playing with it off and on, but now, the anticipation ripe with excitement, he had let go, imagining something much more satisfying taking his cock in its grasp. He stood upright and took a deep breath, ready to play.

“Merlin, I’m coming to get you,” said a familiar voice that made Merlin’s heart leap. He would never tire of hearing that sexy, commanding voice, but just as he opened his mouth to respond, something was placed around his eyes, and lips from behind him tickled his right ear.

“You don’t mind me blindfolding you, do you, love?” asked another familiar voice.

Merlin’s breath hitched. “No,” he whispered as he felt the cloth being tied at the back. He dared not speak another word lest he ruin the moment.

“You are ready for me, yes?” whispered that sultry voice before a talented tongue licked a circuitous path up Merlin’s jaw line.

“Oh yes,” Merlin managed to say, his body excited to the point that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to remain standing.

“Good, because I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to feel me forever.” The tongue now traveled quite a bit lower, eliciting girlish exclamations.

Merlin was a puddle in his captor’s hands as he felt something wet entering him. “Do it. Now. Please,” Merlin begged, and he wasn’t at all disappointed when, several seconds later the tongue was removed and he was impaled by a lovely, thick cock. “Ahshekeelleelelel,” he moaned, throwing his head against the chest behind him, allowing the other to hold him upright.

“You are tight, my little Merlin, but oh so lovely. You don’t know how good you look with me in you.”

“Ever the narcissist,” Merlin said, delirious with lust as he felt the funny familiar feeling that meant his orgasm was imminent. He wasn’t ready for this to be over, but it didn’t seem that he had a choice.

“I am the best you will ever have, although _some others_ will argue with that,” Merlin’s partner for the night said erratically just before he spilled himself into Merlin. A few seconds later he withdrew.

Merlin lamented the loss, but before he could express his thoughts, the cloth was removed. Arthur was standing before him, rubbing Merlin’s arms and looking at him as if he was the luckiest person in the world.

Merlin was. Oh, yes, he most definitely was.

“I want to be the one who makes you come. I always want to be the one to make you come, Merlin. Will you fuck me? Not like you did this afternoon, but like you did the first time I asked you to?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw a naked Gwaine walking back towards the citadel. He grinned.

Both of his dreams had come true.

He had been fucked by Gwaine, but Arthur had claimed him as his.

Merlin didn’t say a word as he quickly pushed Arthur to the ground and thrust into him.

 

8

 **Title:** The Price.  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin  
**Warnings:** Slightly dub-con.  
**Summary:** Arthur needs the Mortaeus flower to save Uther’s life. The problem is, the flower is only found in a cave that is guarded by an incubus.

“I come seeking the Mortaeus flower. It is the only thing that can cure my father,” Arthur announced his purpose the way Gaius had advised.

“Do you know who I am?” A voice answered from inside the cave, enthralling.

“You’re Merlin, a lilin that guards this cave.”

A laughter, and then he saw a pair of glittering blue eyes, a form taking shape as the creature stepped out of the darkness. Arthur tried- and failed- not to stare. The creature was naked, not a wisp of cloth covering him, utterly comfortable in his nudity. His skin seemed to be glowing, softly inviting, and Arthur curled his fingers into a fist, lest they reach out without his command.

“So formal. You know what I really am.” Merlin stepped closer to of Arthur, his scent intoxicating. “Say it.”

Arthur shuddered at the command. “An incubus.”

He chuckled. “Yes.” He raised his hand, his fingers caressing Arthur’s throat, raising goosebumps. “And yet you enter my lair, willingly.”

“Name your price, whatever it is. There’s no amount of gold in the kingdom worth more than the King’s life.”

“Oh, Princeling. Why would I care for human riches?” The fingers trailed up his neck, cupping his face, and Arthur couldn’t help drowning into his eyes.

“Please.”

Merlin cocked his head to a side, considering. “Well, it’s been a while since I’ve fed on a human.”

Arthur shook his head, but Merlin just smiled deviously. “You came here with a request, you knew there would be a price to pay.”

“I can’t.”

“Hmm.” Merlin’s fingers were distracting where his thumb lingered on his lips. “I’m not convinced. An hour, let me have this for an hour, and if you really don’t want this, if you resist spilling your seed, you can leave here with the flower, unharmed.”

“An hour?”

Merlin snapped his fingers and an hourglass appeared. “Only until the last particle of sand filters through. Surely you can make it for that long.”

Arthur had to shake the cloud around his head, the voice hypnotizing him. “And if I don’t.”

“Then, you forfeit yourself to me.”

Those were the terms, and Arthur couldn’t bear to go back empty handed. He just had to hold on, ignore how his breeches already felt tight, his cock throbbing for relief. It was only an hour.

He nodded, and Merlin grinned, sealing their lips together in a kiss, and Arthur felt a surge of lust the likes of which he had never felt before.

“We have a deal.” Merlin’s fingers slid down, pulling at the hem of his shirt. “Oh, I am going to have so much fun.”

With the shirt out of the way, Merlin trailed his fingers up from his navel to his neck, smirking at the way Arthur’s muscles jumped. “So responsive.” His thumb brushed Arthur’s nipple, just a flick, and Arthur gasped. “You sure you can last?”

Arthur glanced at the hourglass, realizing less than five minutes had elapsed. He grit his teeth and nodded, making Merlin laugh. “I like that attitude. You know I can sense your arousal, right?” He inhaled deeply. “Mouth-watering.”

Arthur blushed, ashamed of how true the words were. Merlin’s hands grasped his hair pulling back and exposing his neck. He lapped at Arthur’s neck, making him moan. “You’re desperate for it.” He bit his neck, and Arthur let out a cry that was pure pleasure. Merlin took that moment to rock into him, his thigh brushing against Arthur’s cock, and the feeling almost made Arthur’s knees buckle.

“It’s almost too easy.” He smiled, and then proceeded to unlace Arthur’s trousers.

Arthur swallowed hard, looking away, the hourglass still damningly full. He had to close his eyes when Merlin pulled the trousers down, his erection bobbing. Merlin’s laughter made his stomach churn, with embarrassment and need.

“Look at how hard you are.” Merlin ran a finger up his length, and Arthur couldn’t hold back his moan, nor the way he thrust forward seeking more contact. “How wet.”

Merlin wrapped his long clever fingers around him, giving him two sure strokes before pulling away. Arthur clutched at him, desperate with need. “Please.”

“Please what? You want more?” Merlin asked, bringing one of his fingers to his mouth and sucking it. Arthur nodded, and then quickly shook his head. He wanted, needed… but he couldn’t. His father was counting on him. “You’re lucky I am a generous lover… also because I am dying to know how you taste.”

Arthur had only a moment to panic, to widen his eyes and try to jerk back, but Merlin held onto his hips and sank to his knees with a fluid grace, and Arthur stopped thinking.

He couldn’t win this.

The first lick had Arthur stumble, Merlin’s hands on his thighs only thing holding him upright, and he stared ahead, the half-full hourglass taunting him, as he succumbed to the Merlin’s touch, his fingers finding hold in Merlin’s hair, his hips thrusting into the inviting warmth. It built, and built, until there was nothing else to do, his fingers not even trying to pull Merlin away, instead seeking more of that blessed pleasure, until he felt himself lose, felt himself spill, utter bliss washing out everything else from his conscience.

When he opened his eyes again, Merlin was pulling away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hands, a grin on his lips. He stood up, and kissed Arthur, and Arthur kissed back, tasting himself on Merlin’s tongue.

“Mine.” Merlin whispered, and Arthur felt the binding take hold on his heart, sure that if someone opened his ribcage they will see his name inscribed there.

Arthur hung his head. He had failed the kingdom. Uther was going to die, with his only son enslaved to an incubus. Merlin caressed his cheek, making him glance up.

“Now, let’s get that flower to your father.”

“What?” Arthur gaped.

“You belong to me now.” Merlin’s eyes glowed gold, possessive and proprietary. “And I take care of what’s mine.”

 

9

 **Warnings:** none  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

“Come on! Show a bit of enthusiasm!” Arthur says, nudging Merlin in his side.

“Don’t know why I should,” Merlin says, his eyes constantly checking their surroundings.

“We’re the first people to ever walk over the surface of this planet! It’s exciting!”

“Severe burns, broken leg, frostbite. And that’s just from the last three times we went exploring the unknown,” Merlin grumbles.

“It won’t be like that this time. We checked everything. There’s no hidden volcanic activity, no sudden weather changes. The broken leg was all thanks to your clumsiness. Nothing I can do about that,” Arthur says with a grin.

“Prat,” Merlin mutters.

 

***

 

“Look at the size of that cave entrance,” Arthur says, his eyes shining with wonder.

It’s hard to keep your pessimism when Arthur goes into his excited puppy mode, all the burdens of captain status falling off his shoulders at least for a little while.

“We are not going inside,” Merlin says.

 

***

 

“Iridium,” Arthur reads off the screen of his portable scanner. “I’ve never seen such huge chunks of it so close to the surface of the planet.”

“That’s great. Let’s leave the caves then,” Merlin says.

Something about the cave system keeps him on edge. The tunnels seem unnatural. As if they were built rather than created by nature.

“Seriously,” Arthur starts, but before he can tell Merlin to stop whinging, a loud rumble spreads through the caves, echoing off the walls.

Merlin can feel the ground vibrate, the intensity growing as the sound nears. Arthur grabs him by the arm before Merlin can say anything, urging him to run. But it’s too late. Just a few metres ahead of them the wall of the tunnel bursts open.

“Holy shit,” Arthur gasps as a huge worm-like creature passes across the tunnel and buries it’s front end into the wall on the other side.

It’s Merlin this time who tugs at Arthur’s arm. They move back, their eyes not leaving the neverending movement of the impossibly long creature. And then another one, or maybe the same one, bursts through the wall just a few paces behind them.

 

*

 

Merlin glares at Arthur who is still trying to convince their communication device, which simply isn’t built to send a signal through a mountain of stone and iridium, to reach their ship. The earthworm stopped moving a good while ago, trapping them in the small portion of the tunnel, and for all they know it could be dead already, never to move again. Merlin glares at Arthur some more.

 

*

 

“They’ll find us,” Arthur says, trying to pull Merlin even closer to his side to preserve more of their body heat.

Even if their rescuers find the right tunnel, they won’t get past the worm, Merlin thinks but doesn’t say out loud.

 

*

 

“I’m sorry. You were right,” Arthur mumbles. “I should have listened to you.”

It’s rare to hear Arthur apologize.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Arthur says. “Not that I want you to die,” he adds quickly, realizing how it sounded.

Merlin huffs out a laugh. Trust Arthur to be romantic in the clumsiest way possible. He tosses all his inhibitions and doubts aside and leans in for a kiss.

 

*

 

“Oh god, just… fuck…,” Arthur gasps, pressing against Merlin’s fingers as they drag over his prostate. “Get on with it!”

“I do not carry lube with me on missions,” Merlin says and spits some more on his fingers before he continues working Arthur open. “I’m not risking our first, and possibly last, fuck to be mediocre just because you’re impatient,” he says, adding a third finger.

“Fuck,” Arthur breathes out, coming all over his belly.

 

*

 

He rocks into Arthur at a languid pace, savouring the sounds Arthur makes, the quiet breathy moans, whispers of Merlin’s name. He kisses Arthur, pouring all the love and care he didn’t allow himself to share until now into the kiss. Angle of his thrusts changes. Arthur’s fingers dig into his sides as he begs him to keep it up, to not stop, to never stop.

The ground shakes and Merlin stills, looks to the side at the the earthworm as it starts to move.

“Really? Now?” he asks the uncommunicative giant noodle.

“Come on,” Arthur urges him on, rolling his hips.

With nothing to lose and no time to spare, Merlin pounds into Arthur who pulls at his own cock, adding to the mess on his stomach mere seconds before Merlin reaches his own peak, gasping Arthur’s name against his neck.

As the sharp pleasure wanes, their breathing evening out, the rumbling also fades, the dust settling. Merlin can’t stop the slightly hysterical laugh from escaping him. They’re not dead!

“Merlin! Arthur!” Gwaine’s voice makes him tense.

Before they can move or say a word, Gwaine and Morgana run from around the bend of the tunnel.

“My eyes!” Morgana shouts after a moment of stunned silence, whipping around, while Gwaine punches the air and shouts, “finally!”

Maybe dying wouldn’t be such a bad option after all.

 

10

 **Warnings:** Consensual Roleplay of NonCon, Bondage  
**Pairing:** Morgana/Leon

When Leon entered their playroom, he immediately dropped to his knees as if he had been dragged in. One the throne, commissioned just for this, Morgana looked down upon him. The slits of her silk dress travelled all the way to her hips, met by a corset which curved over her breasts. Atop her ebony hair was a jeweled crown.

In only a loose shirt and trousers, Leon felt like the prisoner he was playing.

“I will give you one last chance to pledge your allegiance to me.”

Leon did not answer, but kept his eyes locked with Morgana’s in defiance.

Morgana stood, her boots clicking deliciously on the floor, until she was right in front of Leon, who had to strain his neck to look up. “Will you surrender to me, Sir Knight?”

“I am not your knight.”

She bent down so her red lips skimmed his ear. “Then I will have to conquer you. Bind tha teage.”

Breath rushed out of Leon as his wrists were tugged behind his back and bound with magic. She smirked and then repeated the spell. Try as he might, he couldn’t help the tremble that ran over him when he felt another strip of magic curl around his half-hard cock, in mimic of a cockring.

“We have a long way to go, Sir Knight. Unless you wish to acquiesce now?”

“Never.”

She smiled and turned her back on him, showing him that the slits on her dress were not only at the front but also at the back, revealing the curve of her ass. She sat down at her throne, and with a cutting spell she ripped the shirt and trousers off his body. He was fully exposed to her, now fully hard.

“Ábifest”

Oh Leon loved that spell.

“Hng!” He couldn’t help the noise that escaped him as Morgana moved the spell over his chest and abdomen. The magic tingled with just the slightest vibration, humming over his skin. It curled around his legs, making his hair rise on end. Just as it skimmed the base of his cock, it was gone.

“Ready to give in?”

“Like Hell.” He panted.

The magic was back in full vengeance, making him arch with his chest pushed out.

This time the magic didn’t hesitate to touch his cock, teasing his balls and skimming his shaft. Then he cried out as her magic pressed to his sensitive head. She continued the motion in random circles for ages, making his cock redden and leak.

“Am I your Queen?”

He shook his head vigorously, not trusting his voice.

She released the magic all at once. The loss was a shock to his system and he fell forward. But Morgana’s magic caught him before he smashed into the floor. She tutted. “Let’s see how you yield to your Queen.” Her eyes flashed gold, and he was forcibly moved forward until he was kneeling before the throne.

“Well?” Her legs opened, skimming against his bare chest and making him shiver. The slits of her dress slipped over her thighs tantalizingly. “Show your devotion to your new Queen.”

Oh god how he wanted to, but he had to play along.

“Never. You are not my Queen.”

“Oh, but I am.” She shifted again, and now he could see her cunt, which was wet just from seeing him desperate by her magic. He licked his lips.

This time her magic was unrelenting all over his body. With another spell, his cock was tightly engulfed in soft wet heat. Between his teeth he let out a groan.

“Surrender to me.” She commanded, “Or I will leave you sore and unsatisfied. I will tie you up with a single word. My servants will drag you to the dungeons where you will stay hard but never find release until you yield to me.”

The heat moved faster on his cock and he yelled with panting breaths. He couldn’t wait any longer. In a daze, he smacked messy wet kisses along her thigh. His beard scuffed along her smooth skin, leaving red in his wake. He buried himself in-between her thighs, using teeth and tongue.

“You call that devotion, sir knight? Harder.” Her voice was calm, completely unaffected.

He was so deep in his role that all he could do was obey his Queen. He sucked her clit, his tongue flicking. He rutted helplessly against nothing, the magic working at its own unhurried pace. His jaw ached but he wouldn’t stop until Morgana commanded him.

A hand tugged at his hair, bending him back so that he had to strain his neck to look up at her. “Am I your Queen, Sir Knight?”

Leon, blissed out and desperate, nodded. “Yes, my queen. I am yours. I surrender to you.”

Without a breath, she pressed him back and he grabbed onto her thighs with desperation before he even registered that she had released his wrists. He delved his fingers into her, pressing up until she shuddered and clenched around him. Moving back, he was panting against her wet skin when her magic gave one last stroke and released his cock completely. He arched his back, every muscle taught as he came for what felt like forever. He panted and trembled against the throne, vaguely aware that she was now kneeling next to him, running her hands over him adoringly.

“Sh, you did well. You were so lovely, darling. So wonderful, Leon.” She ran a hand over his face, “Well done, my knight.”

He sighed and collapsed into his queen’s embrace.

 

11.

 **Warnings:** Potential dub-con as there is alcohol involved  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Mordred

While they waited for Arthur to return from a diplomatic meeting, Gwaine dragged Merlin and the knights into a tavern, claiming he had another quest to embark on- a quest to get Gwaine laid, the knights agreed, while Gwaine ignored them.

Once seated and served, Gwaine confirmed their suspicions, directing their attention to the man with the curly brown hair, purple scarf and leather everything else; and, according to Gwaine, the most lusted-after man in the city. The knights were admittedly skeptical until they watched the man turn away not one, not two, but five women who tried to flirt with him despite the presence of his companions who looked, Merlin thought, like a group of bandits.

He was just not interested. Which of course made them (and Gwaine) want him more.

It became a game, the knights discussing how to take the stranger to bed. Percival outed himself as surprisingly dirty with a few choice suggestions involving both his sword and his sword, though Gwaine unsurprisingly took the cake with a carefully placed suggestion about, well, cake. Merlin used the copious amounts of alcohol he was drinking as an excuse not to contribute.

But it was just a game.

… At first.

And then the scariest of the stranger’s group were pulled away, leaving the supposedly handsome stranger with only two less scary friends.

Then the knights plotted in earnest. They would whisk the friends away, and the designated seducer would implement their strategy. Elyan volunteered for the former, more interested in watching than actually taking part. Lancelot, too. But before Gwaine announced just who would be bedding the stranger-

“I’ll do it,” Merlin said, with a somewhat drink-induced grin.

Gwaine spluttered, indignant that he would not be able to add this man to his ever-growing list of conquests, but the other knights laughed and decided to humour him. Elyan and Lancelot took their places and soon, the stranger was alone.

Undeterred by the knights’ amusement, Merlin sidled up to the stranger, now sitting alone at the bar. Then the stranger turned to look at him, and Merlin’s breath caught in his throat.

“Merlin?”

“Mordred?”

The handsome stranger that everyone wanted to bang was Mordred, and Merlin was one step away from an existential crisis, because apparently he wanted to bang Mordred too.

“It’s been so long…” Mordred murmured. He looked Merlin up and down, very deliberately, pausing at the small amount of muscle Merlin had managed to attain, the filling out of his cheeks, and the blush that had just bloomed there. “You’ve grown since we last met,” Mordred said softly.

“I've have?” Merlin replied, though it sounded more like a whine, and his blush deepened when Mordred’s eyebrows rose.

“Merlin… how much have you had to drink?”

“Gods, too much,” Merlin groaned. Mordred only laughed.

“It suits you,” Mordred said, lowering his voice into a husky whisper that had Merlin stifling a moan. He clutched onto Mordred’s arm to ground himself, but that only prompted Mordred to cup his cheek with his other hand, and the contact went straight to Merlin’s cock.

“I thought you didn’t like the girls hitting on you?” Merlin protested weakly.

“The key factor there being that they were girls. You, on the other hand…” Mordred shifted in his seat nonchalantly, grinding his knee into Merlin’s crotch and exacerbating the problem. Merlin shivered as Mordred leaned over and breathed into his ear; “I think I’ll retire to my room. Would you care to join me?”

Merlin moaned, and Mordred took it for the answer it was.

Merlin took in nothing of their surroundings as Mordred led him to his room, a fact that he would berate himself for in the morning, but then finally they stumbled through the door, which slammed shut when Mordred’s eyes flashed gold. He proceeded to slam Merlin against said door and ravish his mouth, and when Mordred pressed against him further, Merlin dropped his head onto Mordred’s shoulder at the delicious friction it incited.

A whispered spell on Mordred’s part had Merlin’s clothes sliding off of him, but when he lifted his head, the same had not happened to Mordred. Their eyes met, and the slightest hint of bashfulness from Mordred was all it took for Merlin to regain his spine.

“Oh really?” he purred.

It was all the warning Mordred got before he was flying backwards onto the bed, pinned there with the smallest hand gesture.

Instead of using a spell, Merlin removed Mordred’s clothes by hand, mapping out the druid’s skin with heavy fingers as he did so, and making Mordred whine at the touch. Once Mordred was fully unclothed, Merlin took his time tracing the area around Mordred’s cock. A kitten lick to the slit had Mordred mewling and struggling against Merlin’s bonds, and the bed gave a loud creak in protest of Mordred’s magical attempts to release himself.

“Please, Emrys,” Mordred begged.

Merlin was merciful, tugging at his own erection as he wet his lips for Mordred’s. He lavished it with his tongue, bobbing up and down, and Mordred’s beautiful cries of pleasure had him squeezing the base of his own cock to stop himself from coming undone right there. But Mordred took advantage of Merlin’s lapse in concentration to free free himself and tug Merlin up by the hair, kissing him desperately on the mouth.

Though unrestrained, Merlin would not allow Mordred to flip them over.

“You are mine tonight,” he growled into Mordred’s mouth, and rocked his hips so their cocks thrust against each other, not allowing either of them a reprieve until Merlin’s toes curled and they came one after the other, his name on Mordred’s lips and a wrecked moan on Merlin’s own.

Exhausted, Merlin muttered a spell for headaches rather than conjure up water, and he fell asleep in Mordred’s arms immediately after. When he awoke, Mordred was lying across from him and dawn was just breaking. Mordred smiled.

“Now let’s see what happens when we’re sober.”

 

12

 **Warnings:** none  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

• <3 • <3 • <3 •

“Remind me again… Why am I naked in a field of weeds?”

“It's a sacred grove, Arthur, not a field of weeds. And it was _your_ bright idea to go on a quest. No one asked if _I_ wanted to sleep on rocks for a month.”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

“…”

“Oh, stop with the puppy dog eyes. That's hardly fighting fair.”

“Nothing ever pleases you, does it?”

“Of course not. I'm the King. It's my sovereign right to be displeased. I can _see_ you rolling your eyes, idiot. Now… why did I agree to this?”

“For the quest. To find the prophesied secret to Albion's golden age. You must prove yourself pure of heart by petting a unicorn. Only virgins and the pure of heart can. The druids need to make sure you're actually pure and not just a virgin.”

“I’m not an idiot, Merlin. Unlike some people. I meant, why did I agree to do this with _you_?”

“Oh. Because you… love me?”

“Really? That's the best you could come up with?”

“Because… you love me and want to have my babies?”

“Gods, Merlin. It's a wonder I haven't fired you yet.”

“You have. Twice.”

“And yet you’re still here. You're harder to get rid of than a patch of warts.”

“You’re so romantic when you talk like that.”

“Gods. Let's get this over with. Come here.”

“What happened to ‘in the bedroom we're equals’”?

“Does this look like a bedroom? Now get over here.”

“Prat.”

“I heard that.”

“Fine. Here I am, Your Majesty. Now what?”

“Now we get started. But—there is no way in hell I'm lying down on weeds. Those things are spiky. You do it, Merlin.”

“No way! I'm not getting my back all scratched up.”

“ _Mer_ lin…”

“No, Arthur. We'll just have to do it standing up.”

“How on earth do we do that?”

“It might be easier against that tree…”

“You're going to make me do all the hard work, aren't you?”

“I sure can't lift you up. You've grown too fond of Audrey's puddings.”

“Why, you little turniphead!”

“Ahhh! That's my—ahhhh!—word! Stop! Put me down!”

“Not till we're done. Now let's do this.”

“Argh! I change my mind! This tree is rougher than you are the morning after a feast.”

“Stop whining. Now shut up and kiss me.”

“Go to h—mmmmm.”

“I do love how effective that technique is. Now, better get on with the show.”

“Er, I'm really not feeling it, Arthur. All I'm feeling is itchy.”

“You don't have to be ‘feeling it’. Last time I checked this wasn't your quest.”

“You are such a prat.”

“Mmmm. You said that already. And could you use some magic to speed things along? I'm getting sunburnt in places that should never see the light of day.”

“Gods, you owe me big time. But there, I'm ready to go.”

“I knew all that magic was good for something. I don't suppose you could make yourself lighter while you're at it?”

“Just get moving already!”

“Which one of us is the king here?”

“Ahhhhh… Yes… Ohhhhhh…. Why are you stopping?”

“I asked you a question!”

“Fuck, Arthur, stop teasing me!”

“Who's the king, Merlin?”

“You're the royal, Arthur. Ahhhhh…. Mmmmmmmm…. The royal… ass….”

“Damn, you're incorrigible. But the gods know…. I…. Nhnnnn… love it…”

“Gods, Arthur, go…. faster. Faster! Ahhhhh.”

“I'm going… as fast… as I can.”

“It's not… fast… enou— Arthur!”

“Mer— unnnnnnnnhhhhhh. Mmmmmm.”

• <3 • <3 • <3 •

 

“Well, that was different.”

“I think there are ants crawling up my arse.”

“It's a very fine arse. I don't blame them.”

“Never again, Merlin. We are never having sex in the weeds again.”

“I'm not sure how pure of heart the unicorn will find you if you keep insulting its sacred grove.”

“Fuck the unicorn. I think you got mud in my hair.”

“You know that's not my fault! My magic goes crazy when I come.”

“Always with the excuses, Merlin.”

“There’s a bunch of leaves in your hair too. You look like a forest nym— What! No!! You put that ball of mud down right now, Arthur Pendragon, or so help me… Arghlllrrrgh!”

“Yes, that’s much better. Oh look, there are some druids coming. Go see what they want.”

“I'm dripping in mud! You go!”

“I'm getting the ants out of my arse. And you're my servant. It's your job!”

“Make me!”

“Oh, I'll make you all right!”

“No! No tickling! Stop! Stop! I'll go!”

• <3 • <3 • <3 •

“Finally! You're back. What did they want?”

“Well, there's bad news and there's… er… worser news.”

“Why am I not surprised? When do you ever bring good news?”

“Hey! Not my fault. But the druids said that we were too eager to, er… fuck like bunnies. We left their camp too quickly. And… well… We didn't take the witness with us.”

“The witness?”

“Someone to observe and… make sure you aren't a blushing maid anymore.”

“No one said anything about a witness! Who is it?”

“Well, everyone there drew lots, and… Gwaine won. I suspect he cheated.”

“Shit. Let's get this over with.”

“You're so romantic.”

• <3 • <3 • <3 •

“That was even worse the second time. I think Gwaine was getting _ideas_. Now where is this unicorn?”

“Er, I went to ask. Like you told me. And… there maybe… is no unicorn?”

“What—”

“The Druids said… er… that ‘unity with Emrys and acceptance of his magic are the keys to Albion’s golden age.’”

“We've already united! I accepted your magic!”

“They… didn't know? Since magic is still illegal? I told you to get on that.”

“But—”

“A seer had a vision showing me… losing control. Magically. Here. With you. They thought they needed to make it happen. To ensure Albion.”

“Our sex life is the subject of visions? I knew you were trouble the moment I met you.”

“At least with me you'll reign over Albion’s golden age?”

“I don't know… That's a pretty steep price.”

“I could always turn you into a toad. Where would Albion be then?”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

• <3 • <3 • <3 •

 

13

 **Warnings:** awkward sexual situations, intoxicated sex at one point  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Gwaine, Merlin/Leon, Merlin/Arthur

Merlin has never really regretted staying in the closet at his shitty school until he’s two days into freshers’ week at uni and painfully lacking in experience.

The cock in his face is truly intimidating.

He doesn’t have much to compare it with, but he thinks it’s huge. His knees already ache on the tiles in the bathroom stall and he’s drunk enough to make the ill-advised decision to suck his first cock in a pub bathroom, but not drunk enough to tackle it with alcohol-induced confidence.

Gwaine, with the floppy brown hair and the hot stubble, looks at him with obvious confusion about why he's taking so long.

Merlin closes his eyes and fumbles for the dick, giving it a few tugs to buy himself time. Gwaine hums encouragingly, fingers sliding into Merlin’s hair. Ignoring his simmering panic, Merlin opens his eyes only long enough to make sure he finds out where to put his mouth.

For christ’s sake—he can barely get the head in before he feels like he can’t possibly fit any more. Porn never told him how this is supposed to _work_. He pushes down, trying to get more in and Gwaine groans a little above him. It spurs him on, but his jaw already aches, and yep, that’s his teeth scraping against sensitive skin and Merlin hates himself.

He pulls back, trying to bob up and down a bit, but elicits no response. When his teeth get into the mix yet again, Gwaine taps his jaw and pulls away, saying, “hey, give me your hand.” Merlin wants the ground to open.

Gwaine finally comes fucking into Merlin’s fist and Merlin escapes.

*

“I’m gonna give you some advice, Merlin. Kill that crush fast.” Morgana says, tipping her beer at him before taking a sip, and Gwen nods.

“It’s not like that,” he says, looking away from Gwaine.

“That’s what they all say.”

“I just…” Merlin rubs his sweaty palms against his jeans. “Morgana, I need—well, I need help.”

She raises an eyebrow in question.

“I need advice about, er, blowjobs.”

Gwen presses her lips together, amused.

“Merlin, see. I’m really, really gay,” Morgana says. “But luckily for you, I know everything.” She takes a sip of her beer before leaning in. “First, don’t just stick the whole dick in your mouth right away. It’s not _just_ about sucking dick, right? Tease a little, take it slow—“

Merlin really had not known what he was unleashing.

 

*

He manages, with Morgana’s help, to pull a fit ginger at the next pub.

Merlin tries to pay attention to Leon’s technique, he does, but the moment that hot mouth wraps around his cock he’s lost. He comes embarrassingly fast, Leon taking it without even blinking.

His own attempt on Leon goes about as well as before.

*

Arthur is so fit that Merlin wants to actually _die_. He’s so fit that even though Arthur’s been flirting with him for a month, Merlin’s avoided him for just as long because he can’t handle it if the only thing he gets to do to Arthur is give him an awkward blowie.

But Merlin is weak, so when Arthur snogs him stupid and lays himself out on his bed like a treat, Merlin just can’t stop himself. It’s too much to pass up—he can’t be expected to have that amount of self-control. His pulse hammers in his ears as he trails open-mouthed kisses down Arthur’s body, suddenly finding himself kneeling between Arthur’s open legs.

“I—” Merlin looks up, dizzy with how much he doesn’t want to fuck this up. “I haven’t done this a lot.”

Arthur smiles. “Relax.”

“Will you tell me… if something’s not good?” Merlin fights the urge to duck his head and presses his teeth into his lower lip.

“Sure,” Arthur says easily.

With Morgana’s advice like a running commentary in his head, Merlin brushes his hand across Arthur’s inner thigh, noting how it tenses under his touch. He grips the base of Arthur’s cock and looks up, catching Arthur’s eyes. They’re fixed so intently on him that Merlin almost lets go, but he pulls himself together and runs his hand over Arthur’s prick, holding Arthur’s gaze as it grows in his hand.

The sound that slips out of Arthur’s mouth gives him courage and he licks his lips as he peers down at the dick hardening under his touch. His breath comes out shaky.

“It looks—“ He stops, feeling awkward. “Really good.”

He slips his mouth over it until he remembers: tongue. The slow lick he gives the head earns him a deep groan and he almost comes all over the bed. He does it again before taking the tip into his mouth, Arthur’s hand slipping into his hair. Eager, Merlin takes in too much.

“Hey, easy,” Arthur says, voice strained. “You have time. Breathe.”

Merlin does, quickly discovering he needs to breathe through the nose.

“Wrap your lips over your teeth.”

It’s awkward at first, keeping his teeth out of the way, but it starts feeling better—easier. He finds a rhythm that’s almost meditative, Arthur’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth. It stretches his lips, glides smoothly over his tongue and Merlin starts to relax, starts to notice the taste of it and the steady string of sounds coming from Arthur.

The fingers in his hair are twisting desperately and it’s so hot that Merlin falters a little, taking Arthur a little too far.

“Fuck, sorry, sorry,” Arthur says, petting his hair shakily.

Merlin gives an experimental suck to show it’s okay, cheeks hollowing, and Arthur’s filthy _nnnngh_ makes his own dick throb. “Fuck, Merlin, I’m gonna come.” Arthur pushes at his shoulder in warning, but Merlin’s too confident now. Arthur’s come leaks down his chin and he knows he makes a face at the taste, but he doesn’t even care.

Merlin pulls back and beams at Arthur’s flushed, blissed out face.

Fuck yeah. Merlin Emrys: blowjob champion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you can! <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](http://pornalot.livejournal.com/9856.html)

14

 **Title:** Worthy

 **Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

Startled from sleep, Arthur sat bolt upright in bed at the slamming of the heavy front door. He slid back down onto his pillow, closing his eyes, but was pulled awake by the sound of sobbing. He rose, steeling himself as he opened his bedroom door.

Merlin was huddled on the floor with his back against the door, knees drawn up, and face in hands, he was rocking back and forth. Arthur slid down and pulled Merlin into his arms. “Oh, Merls, another loser?” Merlin sniffled, and burrowed into Arthur’s arms. “What happened? I thought you were really sure about this one?”

“I’m worthless. He…oh god…he didn’t even stick around until I’d finished.”

Arthur winced. Merlin had truly awful judgment in men. He tightened his arms and reached up to stroke Merlin’s hair.

“He just got off, jumped up, said, ‘Nice fuck, but you’re not my type,’ and was out the door before I knew it.”

Arthur felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Again. He got to his feet, pulled Merlin up, and drew him to the sofa. Gently, but firmly, he said, “This cannot continue. No more.”

Merlin looked at Arthur through wet eyelashes, and shrugged hopelessly.

“You’re not worthless. You are not meant to be the one-night conquest of every dirt-bag who comes on to you.”

At that, Merlin started sobbing again, and Arthur just held him, whispering to him, “No more. You are precious and beautiful. You deserve so much better.” With every affirmation, Merlin just cried harder—and Arthur let him, cradling him in his arms and rocking him. Merlin drifted off, and Arthur sat still for a long time—if only in this way, it meant everything to him to hold Merlin in his arms and take care of him. Finally, Arthur also fell asleep—head back and legs stretched out straight, Merlin sound asleep in his lap.

Arthur woke as Merlin set a cup of coffee on the end table. “Hey, Sleepyhead, I made you a cup of coffee. I can’t believe you stayed with me all night. I can’t believe you’d do that for me. You are so good to me. I really don’t deserve you. I’m such a mess. I’m so sorry."

Arthur gazed at Merlin. “Do you remember what I said to you last night?”

“I think so—this has to stop—I deserve better,” Merlin said, nervously.

“It breaks my heart watching you suffer like this. I can’t bear watching you treated like yesterday’s trash again and again.”

Merlin crumpled, “I’m so sorry. Oh god, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking…”

“Stop it! Stop it now. This isn’t you! This is not the cheeky, smart, stubborn man who could get even an arrogant prat like I was to respect him?” said Arthur. “Merlin, I understand. You’ve made some mistakes, and you’ve had some bad luck, but you keep letting these bastards undermine you.”

Merlin stared at Arthur.

“You need to stop letting these people wander into your life and stomp all over your spirit. And maybe start noticing the ones who are right here, wanting nothing more than to cherish you.” Arthur turned his face away from Merlin and stared down at his knees. “I’m here, and I want nothing more than to love you and treat you right.”

“Arthur—Oh!—You’re so good to me—always here for me—I never thought—I’m such a mess.” He took Arthur’s hand, and moved closer. “Really?”

Arthur nodded slowly, “Yeah, really.”

Merlin reached for Arthur and kissed him once. And again. And again. They cuddled and kissed for a long while. Arthur wanted so badly to take Merlin to bed and take care of him. He yearned to make Merlin feel loved and cared for. But, even when he felt the evidence of Merlin’s arousal, he didn’t dare make the first move. He had waited long already, and he could be patient.

“Arthur, come to bed with me?”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Of course, I do—but not until you’re really sure. I understand if you want some time, some space. And when you are ready, I want to kiss and touch every inch of you—until you feel so adored that you will never, ever dream of letting someone misuse you again.”

Merlin took Arthur’s face in his hands and kissed him deeply, then rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder. “Wise,” he said, kissing Arthur’s lips. “Kind. And patient,” he said, kissing his nose. “Much too fucking patient,” he said, nipping Arthur’s ear. He stood. “I will think about whether to wait for sex, but tonight I want to sleep in your arms.”

Arthur grinned up at him, “Your wish is my command.”

That night they held each other. Merlin drifted into dream—afloat in a warm, bright lake made of love. Buoyed by love, filled with it—he breathed in love and breathed it back out. When he opened his eyes, Arthur stroked his face, “You looked so happy.”

Merlin grinned, and ran his hands down Arthur’s body leaving no doubt as to his intentions. Arthur pushed Merlin back. “Let me,” he said, undressing Merlin, then kissing his fingers, his hands, his arms. With each kiss he whispered, “You are precious” Kiss “You are beautiful” Kiss “I love you” Kiss. “Beautiful” Kiss “Lovable” Kiss “Worthy” Kiss “Beloved” Kiss—across Merlin’s chest, and down his belly. He kissed each leg, and back up his body. He nosed at his thighs, and his genitals, gentle kisses and sweet words. He turned Merlin over and kissed from the heels of his feet, to the backs of his knees, his cheeks, his spine, and the back of his neck. He stroked Merlin’s hair, kissing his scalp, “I love you” Kiss. He felt something in Merlin shift. Merlin turned over in his arms and looked into his eyes, and Arthur gasped at the strength he saw there.

“I love you too, Arthur. So very much.”

 

15

 **Title:** Crossing One Off the List  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Gwaine, Merlin/Arthur

The night was dark and quiet around them. The silence only broken by the occasional cracking of logs and someone shifting to become more comfortable around the fire. Merlin smiled to himself and stretched his legs out in front of him. Gwaine grinned happily took a swig from his wine skin, then offered it to Merlin. Merlin accepted and only spluttered slightly as the liquor burned his throat going down.

Gwaine laughed and leaned in towards him. “So Merlin,” he began, using what Merlin recognised as his most seductive tone. “How'd you like to ride my stallion? He's well trained for battle.”

Merlin choked out a laugh. “Oh my Gods, Gwaine! I hope you don’t use that line on women.”

Gwaine winked at him. “Only for you, Merlin. Only for you,” he paused and then nudged him with his shoulder and asked jokingly, “so what about it? Mind if I slip my sword into your scabbard?”

Merlin brought his hand to his mouth to stiffle his laughter. He glanced across the fire at Arthur who met his look with dark eyes.

 _‘Do it’_ Arthur mouthed at him across the fire.

Merlin swallowed, his laughter instantly gone, replaced with a shiver down his spine. He tore his gaze away from Arthur’s. He leaned closer into Gwaine and glanced at him as he replied slightly breathlessly, “yeah, yeah alright then.”

He could feel Arthur’s eyes on them as Merlin slid off the log and settled on his knees between Gwaine’s thighs.

Gwaine shifted uncomfortably. “Merlin,” he asked quietly. “What are you doing?”

Merlin looked up at him with a wicked grin. “I’m preparing your sword for my scabbard. Steadying your stead for battle.”

“No,” replied Gwaine. “I mean...” he nodded across the fire at Arthur and suddenly noticed Arthur’s face. “Oh! Wow, really? Okay. Yeah, go on then.”

With slightly shakey hands, Merlin unlaced Gwaine’s breeches and pulled them open, freeing his erection. Merlin shifted slightly so that he could see Arthur out of the corner of his eye and then wrapped his fingers around his cock and slid his hand up and down his shaft experimentally. Then licked his lips and glanced up through his eyelashes at Gwaine.

Gwaine was watching him with a look of awe on his face, not quite able to believe what was happening. He’d taken a few lasses to bed at once before. But this… Merlin, with Arthur watching… Well, it was completely unexpected. Merlin’s mouth enclosed around the head of his cock and his tongue swirled around it. He hissed and grasped Merlin’s hair.

“Dear Gods, Merlin!” he exclaimed, gripping his hair tighter unable to help but thrust slowly into his mouth.

Merlin let him fuck his mouth, sucking and licking him as best he could given that Gwaine was getting more and more enthusiastic, nudging at the back of his throat. Merlin pulled off and wiped at his mouth. He looked over at Arthur briefly who merely nodded. He got to his feet and pushed up his tunic to untie his breeches. He let them drop and pushed them off along with his boots and socks.

Merlin reached behind him and bit his lip as he pulled a wooden plug from his arse and threw it aside. Gwaine glanced over at the plug, glistening in the firelight, unbelievingly. Before he could register it, Merlin was climbing into his lap. He looked into his eyes asking for his permission, Gwaine answered by holding Merlin by the hips and nodding, helping to guide his cock to Merlin’s hole.

He rode Gwaine slowly as if he were taking a leisurely ride through the forest, sighing and gasping as he took his pleasure.

“Fuck! Merlin, you’re positively sinful,” murmured Gwaine into his ear. Merlin ground down on him swivelling his hips as he did. “Ah, Merlin. I’m… I’m!”

Gwaine groaned and buried his head in the crook of Merlin’s neck as he came and then Merlin pushed off at him and pulled on his trousers and grabbed his boots. He saw Arthur get up from the log and follow Merlin as he lead them into the woods by the hand and he listened still dazed to the sounds of Arthur and Merlin fucking, whimpers and moans and gasps. Yells from Merlin of _yes, yes, yeses_ before they both cry out and then there was quiet except for the sound of both men catching their breath in the darkness of the night.

Gwaine ran a hand over his face and proceeded to lace himself up. “I’ve done a lot of things,” he muttered to himself. “But that was the most messed up of all.”

 

16

 **Title:** Kyrios  
**Warnings:** period-appropriate imperialism/(offscreen) underage/(mentions of) slavery  
**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin

 

‘All of Asia,’ said Arthur. ‘ _Mine_.’ He seemed untouched by battle when he tossed off his helmet, arrogant with victory, shaking out imaginary dust from its trailing red plume. He always insisted on standing out in battle, streak of red and flash of bronze, flared gold in the sun. Ahorse and leading right of the phalanx, always first to dive into the oncoming ranks, always last to leave the field – gathering his surviving men, slaying the remaining foes in a deadly swirl of metal and leather.

He made fear and pride war in Merlin’s heart. Seeing his indomitable king transforming killing into an art, battle into a craft, empire into an oeuvre. Sacrosanct son of Zeus, son of Ammon, reaching for apotheosis one swordstroke at a time.

But he was also Merlin’s dear love, the one whose veins had released blood, not ichor, when he skinned his knee on the training ground before the razor had ever touched their cheeks. His heart could not rest until Arthur, glowing with the glory of triumph, returned to his arms.

Merlin, having stripped his armour off already at the first opportunity, watched on as the squires lifted garment after garment from Arthur. When they had first joined the army under Arthur’s father, they had the tent to themselves and had divested each other of the armour.

‘Arthur: King of Macedon, Hegemon of Greece, Pharaoh of Egypt, King of Persia, Lord of Asia.’ Merlin tested the titles on his tongue.

‘It sounds wonderful, Arthur,’ one of the squires enthused. Mordred. Merlin misliked the eagerness in his eyes.

‘Are you done? Leave us,’ he said shortly to the squires, and they gathered the armour and scurried out, leaving only Arthur in the light chiton he had worn to keep the leathery chafe of the linothorax at bay.

‘When will those idiots realise that you have no time for an _eromenos_ ,’ Merlin said, glaring at the flap of the ornate tent Arthur had taken from the craven Persian king at their last battle. Now, Arthur had taken his empire.

‘Or rather, that you will not allow me one,’ Arthur said, his voice lilted with amusement. ‘Come. I have conquered Asia, and all you can do is moan and whine.’

Merlin went to him. How could he not? His king compelled him. He lifted the chiton from the thick, golden body. Divine from afar, his flesh was marred with humanity up close – white-knitted battle scars, freshly-dried scabs, freshly-bloomed bruises.

‘Take care of me,’ Arthur whispered to him.

He spread that thick, golden body across the coverlet of Tyrian purple; he admired the complement of their colours. He took and unstoppered the alabaster bottle beside the bed, poured the gleaming oil onto the stomach, and kneaded it into the broken skin.

By rights, this was the duty of a slave – or a squire. Merlin, however, had never learnt to share this pliant, compliant Arthur.

He worked the oil diligently along the heavy limbs. He rolled the generous pectorals – almost as fleshy as a woman’s breast – under his palms and watched the nestling nipples rise at his touch. He gave the half-interested penis a cursory swipe, enough to make it twitch into the crevice between torso and thigh, then rolled the thick, golden body over. From behind, Arthur’s planes spread beneath his fingers, and trailed downwards to his arse.

Merlin watched the fat crumple and fill beneath his clenching fingers. Arthur had moved his legs apart and rucked up his knees against the mattress. Wanton. Merlin spread the flesh, and gazed, gratified, at the little pink pucker there, nestled among wiry, tawny-yellow hairs.

There had been a time when Arthur’s hole had been difficult to open, once; a time when they had fumbled through indirect instructions that had tumbled from wine-slaked tongues in the barracks. Ten years on, and it parted more readily than even Arthur’s own skin would for the blade of a sword. Merlin admired how it blossomed and stretched around his fingers, pink and clinging through the thrusts. He held it apart and blew a puff into the pink within.

‘Merlin.’ Arthur, the side of his face crushed into the mattress, swollen mouth red and agape, sweat mingling with oil. Merlin took him then.

There was a wonder to it, to how Arthur – who had never relented, who had never been defeated, who had never surrendered in any of his battles – surrendered to this. How he abdicated control and offered himself so meekly to Merlin. A testament of his love and faith, one which never failed to temper Merlin’s wild lust with tenderness. He lay himself over Arthur and pistoned his pelvis, letting the ponderous pouch of his balls smack against the taint, and feeling the slippery drag and cling of Arthur’s rim over his cock. It felt familiar in a way Merlin felt certain no other anus possibly could, as though it had been moulded to accommodate him and him only. Given how Arthur had spent much of their puberty filling his arse with Merlin, perhaps it had been.

He loved the way Arthur ululated and undulated and unravelled from his ministrations, how the tension of battle and command seeped from his muscles. He loved how only he could do this to Arthur, how only his soul’s half could join with Arthur’s corresponding half. He loved how he could make Arthur shake apart with orgasm by simply rubbing relentlessly against the sensitive nub within, how he would follow with Arthur pulsating around him.

‘Achilles himself never had this,’ Arthur said sleepily. He nuzzled deeper into the fabrics of the bed and whined half-heartedly when Merlin pulled free. ‘All Asia, and his lover to share it.’

Merlin watched, briefly, the rise and dribble of his seed from that loosened hole – a fucked-out rose – before covering the thick, golden body with the purple and smoothing his hair. Let him have Asia. The one thing Merlin desired lay conquered here.

 

17

 **Warnings:** none  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin

The third time Arthur either refuses to reply to a question or gives some insipid answer, Merlin signals for the cameras to wrap up in thirty seconds. Just as he closes up the interview, Arthur gives him the most charming smile and rests his hand warmly on Merlin's arm.

"What was that?"

"What?" Arthur asks, smile still on his face, hand still on Merlin's arm.

" _That_." Merlin glances down at Arthur's hand and fights to keep the flush from rising up his neck and face. "That was a terrible interview."

"Those were terrible questions. I don't want to talk about my diet or exercise regime. Fans don't want to know about that."

"Oh my god. Why do you make my job so hard? Why? Every convention I've interviewed you at has been an unmitigated disaster." Merlin's crew has stepped away and he's pretty sure he hears a snigger from somewhere behind him. "I think you do it on purpose."

"Surely, they're not _all_ disasters..." Arthur gives Merlin another smile, sly and private, and moves on to his next set of interviews and photo ops.

*

Merlin's two drinks into his evening before he decides to go back up to his room in the ConQuest hotel and spend the rest of the night watching garbage television and ignoring any texts or emails from work. Nothing sci-fi, and nothing with stupid blond superhero types, either.

The elevator's empty when Merlin gets in, but after a moment somebody shouts his name, and then "Stop!"

"Can't you just text like a normal person?" Merlin asks when the door closes.

Arthur shrugs. He'd changed into a white tee shirt and jeans, looks freshly showered, and has that small, private grin on his face again. "You take all the fun out of the chase, you know that, right?"

There's a moment, where they stare at each other's eyes and lips, and then another, where Merlin touches the tip of his tongue to his bottom lip. Arthur makes a soft, pleased sound, smiles again, and punches in the number for his floor.

Before Merlin can say anything, Arthur crowds him into the corner of the elevator, his body warm and strong as he presses himself against Merlin.

"Who's ruining the chase now?" Merlin asks, though with a laugh as he tips his head to the side to avoid Arthur trying to kiss him.

"It's late," Arthur murmurs, and his mouth skimming the angle of Merlin's jaw. "I've been up for sixteen hours, I don't want to chase you, I want to fuck you.."

Merlin's breath comes out in a soft whoosh, knocked out of him by the press of Arthur's hand to his cock and the urgency of his words. Everything's warm and dizzy for a moment, the feel of Arthur's breath on his skin, the closeness of their bodies.

The elevator jolts to a stop and Arthur lets out a sigh of a breath, too. This time when he smiles, he looks fond and flushed with need, and he slips his fingers through Merlin's to tug him out of the elevator.

"Do you want--" He says, before they walk towards his room.

And Merlin, who is just drunk enough to know he's not really angry at Arthur, puts both his arms around Arthur and buries his face in the back of Arthur's neck. "Yes."

They're both half undressed when they tumble onto Arthur's hotel bed, shirts crumpled onto the floor, Arthur on top Merlin as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers. He gets himself out of his jeans first, then Merlin.

"God, you're gorgeous. You're always so gorgeous. How do you work for an entertainment website?" His fingers trail down from the center of Merlin's chest to his stomach, then dip into the waist of his boxers.

"Some of us have an actual career, you know."

Arthur laughs, that stupid, ridiculous laugh that makes audiences fall in love with him ten times over, then leans in and nuzzles against Merlin's stomach. "Good, then you can support us in our old age..."

Merlin arches into the touch with a sudden gasp, and his mind goes a bit blurry with how Arthur keeps on nuzzling and kissing him, nosing against the rise of his erection, and then pressing his mouth there, warm and damp through the thin material of Merlin's boxers.

There's a half-formed thought his mind wants to grab onto, but Arthur's mouth is on him again, kissing inside of his thigh, then nipping at the waist of Merlin's shorts with his teeth. Once he works them off, his mouth is all over Merlin, all wet and hot as he presses kisses along the length of his cock, hotter still when he tugs the tip between his lips.

Merlin's fingers tangle into the sheets and his voice is a tangle in his throat; it's always like this with Arthur, urgent, insistent, too much need and not enough time. When Arthur murmurs something around Merlin's cock that feels fond and sweet, Merlin arches off the mattress with a cry.

*

"Support you in your old age, hm?" Merlin asks later, sprawled out over the bed, Arthur's head in his lap. "I might need to see you more than every couple months..."

"Stay tonight..." Arthur peers up at Merlin, all blond hair and sincere blue eyes. "Stay every night?"

"That might not be terrible at all," Merlin says, and knows it to be true.

 

18

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin

Merlin knew, as soon as he woke up in Arthur’s bed, that he’d made a mistake. A mistake that would not only cost him a blossoming friendship but that would break his heart as well.

Arthur Pendragon was a maneater. Everyone knew it, although Arthur hid it well. But there had been the photo that went viral on Cedric’s Twitter account of Arthur’s bedpost with all the notches. The thing had looked as if something had chewed it and spat it out.

Merlin could see that bedpost properly now. He’d gripped it more than once during the previous night, his desperate fingers struggling for something to hold while Arthur pounded him into the mattress. Arthur fucked so very, very good. Merlin wanted it again, and again. He thought maybe he might want it for the rest of his life.

But there was that bedpost, all marked and accusing. It looked just the same as it had in the photo. Maybe after that had been circulated round the internet Arthur had found it more difficult to be as promiscuous? Or maybe he’d found it easier? No, he wouldn’t have spent weeks befriending Merlin and then taken him on an expensive date if he was finding it easy. Merlin had known that he shouldn’t have gone on the date, and had definitely known that he shouldn’t have slept with Arthur afterwards. But Arthur was so handsome and kissed so passionately, and smelled so good…

Arthur wasn’t even intending hanging around. He was out of bed already, pulling on a pair of boxers, obviously trying to be quiet so that he could sneak out. Well, Merlin wasn’t going to let him get away with that.

“Morning.”

Arthur turned, and gave him a guilty smile. “Morning, Gorgeous! Sorry, I was trying to let you sleep. I had to get up. Aithusa’s going to be wanting her breakfast or she’ll be running in here crying as if she’s not the most spoiled princess ever. I won’t be a moment. You stay there, I’ll bring you coffee.”

Spoiled princess? So it seemed Arthur had a child that he hadn’t told Merlin about as well. It got worse. And where was the other parent?

Miserably, Merlin slid back under the covers, careful to keep his back to that horrible bedpost and everything it represented. It was awful. In fact, Merlin thought he might cry. He bit back a sob, but must have made a sound because Arthur paused, and came back to the bed.

“Are you okay?” Arthur asked uncertainly. “We were good last night… better than good… God, you look like you’re about to cry!”

“Am I a conquest?” Merlin asked in a small voice. “Am I going to be marked on there with the others?”

“What?”

“On the bedpost.”

Arthur tried to say something, but Merlin kept on speaking. It had taken a lot to pluck up the courage to ask, and he wasn’t going to stop.

“Am I just another one night stand and any minute now you’re going to make some excuse so that I have to leave and then you’ll say you’ll call and never do and it’ll always be awkward and awful and we can’t be friends any more and I didn’t know you had a kid and is there a husband or a wife or something because I really hope there isn’t and I don’t want that to lose you because I really like you and we’re friends and… hmfph!”

Arthur had put his hand over Merlin’s mouth.

“Sorry, but will you let me speak?”

Merlin nodded, wide-eyed over the top of Arthur’s hand.

“Thank you.” Arthur let go cautiously, then seemed to relax a little when Merlin kept his word and didn’t say anything more. “Now, first of all you’re not a one night stand. I don’t do one night stands. Well, not intentionally anyway. And I absolutely would never do that with someone who’s rapidly becoming my best friend.”

Merlin opened his mouth to protest, but Arthur held up a finger in warning.

“Let me finish. The bedpost. I suppose you saw the photo that Cedric sent round after we split up?”

Merlin nodded. “It was on his Twitter. Everyone saw it.”

“Mmm. Fun times. Well, he was insane and everything he wrote there was a lie. If I had notches on my bedpost, you would be number six. Three steady boyfriends, one accidental one-night stand, one huge mistake, and you.”

“I’m not the huge mistake?”

“No. That’s Cedric.”

Somewhere in the flat, Merlin could hear someone moving about. It had to be Aithusa. Arthur had never mentioned her before.

“I think your daughter’s got up,” Merlin pointed out sulkily.

Arthur stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “My daughter! Aithusa… yes… I suppose she is! Oh Merlin, you’ve got it so wrong. Aithusa! Get in here!”

There was a loud thudding sound, as if someone were running down the hallway. The bedroom door burst open and a blur of white fur ran into the room, not even pausing before leaping onto the bed with a happy bark. She was a small white Scottie, adorably cute. She sniffed Merlin, then wagged her tail hopefully at Arthur.

“This is Aithusa,” Arthur sighed, sitting down on the bed beside Merlin. “Little monster. I’ll have to feed her, otherwise she’ll start destroying things. You can see what she did to the bedpost when she was a pup.”

“She’s a dog…”

“Shh! I tell her she’s a princess and she believes me. She’s actually my sister’s dog, but I look after her when Morgana’s abroad. Aithusa likes me better anyway, don’t you girl?”

Aithusa gave a little bark.

“See? So,” Arthur smiled, one hand cupping Merlin’s face, the other stroking Aithusa’s fur. “Are we good?”

Merlin nodded. “Very good. Sorry. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re my idiot now.” Arthur kissed him, loving and sweet. “And I like it that way. But perhaps it’s time I got a new bed...”

 

19

 **Warnings:** Threesome, outdoor sex  
**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin/Gwaine

 

Arthur is travelling north when he meets Merlin, looking small and battered by the side of the road. It’s dangerous to stop for strangers these days, even out here near the old Welsh border, but Arthur is too tired of running to ever disregard a cry for help.

This turns out to be a mistake.

“Hand over those keys yours, real easy,” a man’s voice says, and there’s the muzzle of a pistol in the small of his back. “I don’t want to shoot you.”

“Then why are you carrying a gun?” Arthur raises his hands, car keys trapped inside one fist. “If you take my car, I’ll just die out here anyway. On the whole, I’d rather be shot.”

“It does seem more heroic that way,” Merlin agrees from the ground. Arthur knows his name is Merlin because he introduces himself a few seconds later, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to exchange pleasantries with the man you’ve hijacked in the middle of the night. “And this is Gwaine. He’s not really holding a gun.”

“I could have been,” Gwaine says, stepping into view. Arthur has the impression of long, dark hair and a pouting mouth, stubble shadowing his chin. He puts his arms down.

“And I _could_ have been a Grifter.”

“Sorry.” Merlin smiles. “It’s just, we really need to get to Ealdor. Is there any chance you could give us a lift?”

 

*

 

Arthur’s car is a beat-up Mini Cooper with one broken headlight and no rearview mirror. It runs, but only just, and his supplies take up most of the space in back. For three grown men, it’s a tight fit.

“You outran the Horde in _this_?” Gwaine asks, sounding impressed. “That takes guts.”

“More like blind luck.” And he’d paid dearly for the privilege. “I’ve been sticking to the back roads so far, avoiding populated areas. I usually keep the headlights off.”

Usually, but not tonight, which was how he’d fallen for Merlin’s ploy in the first place. Gwaine grins.

“Must be destiny,” he says.

“That's me." Arthur's voice is flat. “Fucking providential.”

 

*

 

“Speaking of fucking,” Gwaine says, some time later. They’ve stopped in a lay-by to get some sleep, huddling beneath the trees as dawn breaks over the horizon. “I found this in the glove-box a few miles back. Anyone fancy a shag?”

“You just escaped an alien invasion and _that’s_ what you’re thinking about,” Merlin says, but his tone suggests utter lack of surprise. He bats the box of condoms away. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And very horny,” Gwaine says with a leer. “How about it, Princess?”

Arthur’s usual denial is on the tip of his tongue, but a shy glance from Merlin changes his mind. If you can’t come out at the end of the world, when can you?

“I don’t bottom,” he says, before he can think better of it, and Gwaine’s grin widens into something dangerous.

“That’s all right,” he says. “I hardly ever top.”

 

*

 

It’s probably Gwaine’s fault that things devolve from there. Scratch that: it’s definitely Gwaine’s fault, but since he’s the only one with a working knowledge of threesomes, both Arthur and Merlin are happy to let him take charge.

“It’s simple mathematics,” he says, working himself open slowly with one hand. He’s using the first-aid vaseline as lube – “Not ideal, but it does in a pinch,” – and how he manages to keep his voice steady Arthur has no idea. “Two plus one equals sexier sex.”

“I don’t think that’s quite how it works,” Merlin says, but he’s distracted, his eyes caught on the heavy curve of Gwaine’s erect cock. The hot flush on his cheeks goes all the way down. “Whatever happened to three’s a crowd?”

“Overstated,” is Gwaine’s pithy response. He gives a sharp inhale, hips jerking, and closes his eyes. “Merlin–– I need–– ”

“Okay.” Hurriedly, Merlin steps forward, guiding his cock inside as Gwaine removes his fingers. It’s clear the two of them have done this before, and Arthur tries not to feel jealous.

“Where do you want me?” he asks. Merlin flashes a cheeky grin over his shoulder and wriggles his arse. Right. Stupid question.

It’s not like Arthur hasn’t had semi-anonymous sex before, but never in daylight, and never while technically on the run. He puts tentative hands on Merlin’s hips, stepping close enough to press an open-mouthed kiss to the nape of his neck. Merlin lets out a sigh of encouragement, and Arthur rocks against him, parting his cheeks with two fingers until his cock is rubbing against Merlin’s hole with each pass.

From there, it’s easy. Merlin is vocal about what he likes, and Arthur teases him mercilessly, using slick fingers and the blunt head of his prick to bring him to the brink again and again. Merlin fights back with long, slow thrusts, driving into Gwaine and clenching tight and hot around Arthur’s cock. Whatever else may have happened to the world, sex is still sex, and Arthur loses himself in the rhythm of it, burned-out cities and shattered lives forgotten in the pleasure of burying himself in Merlin’s body.

He is vaguely aware of Gwaine beneath them, Merlin’s hands on his waist slightly pinked in the sunlight, the visible sheen of sweat on his back. He scrapes his teeth along Merlin’s throat and is rewarded by a soft ‘ _guh_ ’ when Merlin’s head tips back, devastatingly pliant, his control slipping as he spasms in Arthur’s grip. Arthur fucks into him, into Gwaine, into Gwaine’s fist, coming with a strangled sound against Merlin's hair as his vision goes white.

 

*

 

They end in a sticky heap on the grass, Gwaine on his back with Merlin sandwiched between them, which suggests that Gwaine is observant as well as clever.

“Fuck,” Gwaine says, flinging an arm across his eyes. “If I have to die, this is how I want to go.”

“Naked,” Merlin deadpans. “In the woods.”

“Nothing more human than that,” Gwaine says, and smiles.

 

20

 **Title:** To conquer to be conquered  
**Warnings:** None  
**Pairing:** Gwaine/Percival

Gwaine was a conqueror. He was a player. In love, he loved the chase, the game to win the prize.

Younger, he had tried the relationship thing but he had soon grown tired. Now he just wanted to seduce and, after one night of pleasure, to find another prey.

At least, that’s what he believed before Percival.

***

He had met the guy in a club. Clubs and bars were his favourite hunting ground. People were there for the fun and it was easier to make the first contact when everyone had drunk a beer or two.

Percival had catched Gwaine’s eyes as soon as he had entered the club.The man was tall and it was nearly impossible not to notice him when he was wearing a sleeveless and form-hugging black tee that showed his muscles and especially his impressive biceps.

Gwaine had observed him from afar at first. He had been there with a small group of friends and had seemed quite set back. He had stayed at the table when his friends had went dancing. He had clearly been more timid than Gwaine’s standards but Gwaine was never against some challenge.

Gwaine had crossed the club and had come to sit next to the man.

“Hi...You don’t seem to have fun, here…”

“Hi. Let’s say clubbing is more my friends’ thing than mine.”

“You don’t like to dance?”

“Not sober.” The man had answered matter of factly.

“Let me buy you a drink, then.”

The rest of the evening had gone on a more usual way for Gwaine. After sharing a few drinks with Percival, he had managed to convince him to dance. Their movements had fastly became more sensual, their bodies coming closer. The temperature had risen around them and Gwaine had known the hardest part of the chase was behind him.

The way Percival had moved his hips had only confirmed his intuition and just a few minutes later, they had gone outside the club, Gwaine pinned against the wall, Percival hungrily kissing him.

“My flat is just two block away.” Gwaine had suggested in-between kisses. He often prefered to go at his conquest’s or choose a neutral ground like an hotel room but that night, he had wanted Percival and as fast as possible.

“Lead the way.”

***

“Faster…” Gwaine had moaned as Percival was pounding inside him. It had been so natural to submit to the man when Gwaine often prefered to lead the way. The sight of his cock, as impressive as his muscles, had made Gwaine salivate from anticipation. And Percival had been delivering. He had managed to hurt Gwaine’s prostate from his first move. He also had seemed to know exactly what Gwaine liked. Being held firmly around his hips, little bites on his back, keeping it slow and deep even when he asked for fast moves.

It was a long time since Gwaine had felt such a connection with someone in bed. It had been exhilarating.

“Percy… Please…” Gwaine had whimpered, frustrated by Percival’s slow rhythm.

“Not yet... You’ll get what you crave but not now.”

Percival’s deep voice had only accentuated Gwaine’s arousal. He had moved as to impale himself more deeply on Percival’s cock but the man’s grip was stronger.

“Please.. I… I need to come.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” Percival had answered before, finally, speeding up.

Then, it had only took a few movements and Percy’s hand around his cock for Gwaine to come, shouting Percival’s name.

And it had only been the first time of a long night.

***

A long night that had led Gwaine there, in Percival’s bed, a week later. He had never spent a second night with someone in years, even less a third.

With Percival, it was different, though. There was this natural intimacy, this understanding between them. The sex was wonderful and the moments before and after weren’t awkward. In just a week, Percival had managed to worm Gwaine’s life. And Gwaine wasn’t even bothered by it, on the contrary.

“Gwaine? Wanna take some breakfast?”

Percival asked as Gwaine was slowly waking up after a long night of wonderful sex.

“Eggs?” Gwaine sleepily asked.

“And bacon.”

“You’re perfect!”

And Gwaine meant it.

 

21

 **Warnings:** swearing, mentioning God in a vaguely/very sexual context, public sex.  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

It starts innocently enough.

When Merlin stumbles his way into Arthur’s life and becomes his administrative assistant, Arthur’s travels around Europe for business meetings and boring conferences becomes a lot more fun. They’re always professional when dealing with clients, but when they’re alone, Arthur and Merlin banter, fight, joke, drink silly drinks, laugh, and flirt shamelessly and not-very-seriously, both with each other and everyone else.

It starts in Budapest with a hotel mishap where they end up in a room with one king size bed instead of two singles. Arthur freaks the fuck out and yells at Merlin for not double-checking when he made the reservation. Merlin shouts back that Arthur should calm his massive butt cheeks down because Merlin sure as fuck isn’t going to sneak the tip in while Arthur’s sleeping soundly even if they _do_ have to share the bed.

Arthur clamps his mouth shut and clenches his fists until they start shaking with repressed anger. On the other side of the room, Merlin glares furiously at him. In the end, they solve the issue by massive amounts of alcohol from the mini bar.

The day after, Arthur wakes up with a sore bum and a clingy, tussle-haired menace half draped over his chest. What surprises him more is that he actually doesn’t mind.

And it all goes from there.

*

That’s when history dork Arthur comes up with their “quest” to make the trips a bit less boring and a bit more of a challenge. And Merlin never backs down from a challenge.

In Rome, Merlin is dutifully taking notes during a long-winded conference when Arthur leans over and says, “Do you know there’s a very nice public toilet close to the Vatican? Not only close to God, but also perfect for blowjobs.”

It’s difficult to concentrate after that.

*

“Isn’t it too cold?” Merlin asks under his breath while the guide patiently explains about what the small group of shivering businessmen need to know when staying the night in the famous Ice Hotel. It’s the oddest business trip Merlin’s ever been on, but apparently staying in a place made completely out of ice is a ‘treat’ and a ‘unique experience’ even when the temperature is so far below zero you think hell itself would freeze over if it was located here.

 

He’s not so sure about the ‘treat’ bit, and he’s quite unwilling to freeze his nuts off for this stupid quest. And preferably Arthur won’t freeze his nuts off either — Merlin’s getting pretty fond of those, too.

But it turns out sleeping bags come in a ‘double’ size and Arthur has no plans to let Merlin get stiff from the cold, only from his tongue and clever fingers.

*

Merlin is clasping his hand over Arthur’s mouth, muffling the small whines for ‘more, more’ Arthur always makes when he’s close. The steps on the other side of the garden wall pause and Merlin holds his breath and mentally tries to hold Arthur’s, too.

Arthur sweats where he lies underneath him, writhing impatiently as he’s seemingly unaware of the intruder — or maybe he just doesn’t care. When the steps finally gets further and further away, Merlin relaxes his hand over Arthur’s mouth. Then he slowly pulls almost all the way out before pushing roughly back in again.

“You harlot,” he whispers, but caresses Arthur’s chest gently and his voice softens to become almost inaudible as Arthur lets out a satisfied sigh. “You lovely man.”

*

They check off Paris, Barcelona, Copenhagen, Tallinn, St Petersburg, Kraków, Helsinki, Istanbul, Bucharest…

But then Merlin gets sick in Vienna and spends most of the night hugging the toilet bowl and spends the whole following work day under double covers in bed. He’s pale and shivery and Arthur knows he should go to the conference but he doesn’t want to leave Merlin alone.

So he spends the day in the hotel room, cooling Merlin down with a damp towel on his forehead and mumbling small nothings that mean way more than they should. He orders an odd soup from room service, thinking it’s something light Merlin can eat, but it turns out it’s a local delicacy that smells of feet so he quickly reconsiders.

Merlin gets better towards the evening but is still too weak to try any shenanigans. When they fly home, though, Arthur gives Merlin a handjob in the plane loo instead.

*

Two years later, Arthur proposes in Lisbon and they end up having noisy sex in an alleyway behind the restaurant. It’s pure luck no one spots them.

The quest is completed much, much later, after having fought a lot, laughed a lot, cried a lot and fucked a lot, and they’ve both ended up with more than just a few grey hairs.

Last place on the list? Athens.

 

22

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

Declaring war on Essetir had been a mistake, though the admission would never leave Uther’s lips. Camelot was outmatched, badly, and the only thing that stopped Dragonlord Balinor from driving them back across their own borders and burning Camelot in his wake was Balinor himself. He was the most powerful warlock in all the Five Kingdoms and beyond, but he had no ambition to rule lands outside his own.

Instead, after the first day of battle had closed with Camelot’s men at two-thirds of their original number, Balinor came to their camp under a negotiator’s flag with his son and an offer.

“My people honor the old ways,” he said. He and his heir Merlin stood on one side of the fire at the center of Uther’s tent, while Uther and Arthur stood on the other. Uther glared at Balinor; Merlin glared at Arthur. “Worthiness in our laws is determined by the strength of the ruler, not his army.”

Dark shadows collected in Uther’s furrowed brows, sharp against the warm orange glow splashed across the rest of his face. “You propose we duel for the fate of our lands?”

Balinor’s hair flew wildly as he shook his head. “You and I are old men, we’ll be dead before long. It’s our sons who must prove themselves.”

In the firelight, Merlin’s narrowed eyes shone gold. Arthur couldn’t drag his own gaze away, even though it meant the disrespect of not looking at Balinor when he said, “You could rout us.”

He felt the heat of his father’s disapproval even stronger than the flames, but kept his eyes on Merlin. It was a truth known to everyone in the tent, even if not a flattering one for Camelot “Why not press your advantage? Why risk your sovereignty?”

But Balinor didn’t answer him, and Merlin kept staring fiercely at him, and Uther accepted the terms for him.

/

It wasn’t a fair fight. No one expected it to be.

Arthur had been trained for battle since he was old enough to curl his hand into a proper fist and trained to throw a punch. Then once he could hold a dagger, and a bow, and so on. The champion of Camelot, he was peerless. Undefeated.

In contrast, Merlin was a scrawny thing who looked like he’d never seen the right end of a sword and wouldn’t know what to do with it if he did. If their challenge were a tournament batch, Arthur could’ve destroyed him in seconds with a sword or flail. Barehanded grappling perhaps a bit longer — he seemed a slippery one.

But it wasn’t a tournament, and Merlin’s prowess in a melee hardly mattered. Rumor had it that for all the Dragonlord’s legendary magical strength, his heir matched or even exceeded him.

Arthur knew, facing off in the center of the cleared battlefield, that the outcome of their fight could only go one way. From Merlin’s wide, easy grin, so did he.

/

“You cheated.”

The two of them were alone in Merlin’s tent. Larger and more opulent than Arthur’s, it even boasted a full bed with flowing canopies draped from towering wooden posters. Chains looped around those columns, gold and garnet that ought to have been too delicate to hold, but of course there was magic involved. They wrapped like decoration around Merlin’s wrists and ankles, shining against his bare and oiled skin: the representation of a kingdom conquered, submissive to its future king.

“Did I?” Arthur asked idly. He still wore his armor, barely scuffed from the fight, and also now a crown; not his own circlet, but the crest of the Dragonlord. He set that aside first. Uther was still King, even if Arthur had been the one to win him Essetir. Next, his greaves and bracers, all the while admiring the prize of war awaiting him.

Merlin’s eyes never left his; never stopped glowing gold. “You know you did. My magic had no effect on you.”

“Maybe you’re just bad at magic.”

“I’m not!” The teasing challenge of Merlin’s tone dropped away to genuine outrage, and Arthur had to laugh.

He also had to finish peeling off his smallclothes and claim his tribute, because the surly look on Merlin’s face was too enticing.

“Or maybe I did cheat.”

Arthur knelt on the bed, positioning himself between Merlin’s spread thighs. The chains holding his ankles were long enough to allow Arthur to lift each leg and rest them over his shoulder; Merlin’s cock bounced against his stomach with the movement, long, slender, and flushed full.

“Maybe a powerful warlock gave me a sword spelled with dragon’s breath so I couldn’t lose.”

He’d been prepared — or prepared himself, for a conquered prince was still a prince. It had been done well; Merlin’s hole was slick and loose. All Arthur had to do was push the head of his prick against it and it yielded to him. Not without resistance, just as Merlin’s kingdom, but also as easily overcome.

“Oh,” Merlin gasped as Arthur sank into him, slow and inescapable, “Arthur!”

“I think you mean to call me sire.” Arthur smirked.

“I didn’t. Prat.” Merlin’s insult lost its power beneath the breathiness of his voice, the way his legs tightened around Arthur to drive him on. “I’ll never.”

Pulling out only to thrust back in harder, Arthur delighted at the hot grip of Merlin around him and the tender moan that broke from Merlin’s lips. After another, he had to point out, “Then perhaps you shouldn’t have given me Excalibur.”

Merlin opened his mouth to retort, but Arthur stopped it short by leaning in, bending him nearly double, and plundering Merlin’s mouth with the same intensity as he plundered his body. Any illusion of passivity gone, Merlin responded in kind, rocking himself back onto Arthur.

/

“The world we make will be beautiful,” Merlin whispered, late into the night when they’d exhausted themselves. “Albion will be peaceful and prosperous with you as her king.”

“And you by my side.”

“Always.”

 

23

 **Warnings:** Slight blood fetishism  
**Pairing:** Merlin and Arthur

“We should go home, Arthur.”

Bloody-awful Moon Bear. Third quest this month.

Moon Bears were capricious gods, wielding the mysterious power to lead kingdoms to utter ruin or immense prosperity. They lurked in mortal forests only when Venus was in alignment with the moon. Arthur’d finally come home just that day only to be on another godforsaken quest.

“And what makes you think that?” Arthur unsheathed his sword with a bit more force than necessary and hacked down branches left and right.

“This Moon Bear, from the way it chased us halfway across the Forests of Ascetir on our first day here, is leaning more to the ‘ruin’ part of the spectrum. Oh, and it being immune to my magic doesn’t help, either.”

Red and puffy, Merlin’s eyes glared back at him. If Arthur hadn’t known any better, he’d think Merlin had been crying through the night.

“I understand, Merlin,” Arthur said as he walked over and patted Merlin on the back. “You can go home by yourself, then.”

“Arthur, I need to come along, I need to protect—”

“What were you crying about last night, then?”

Merlin spun his head around, but Arthur kept a grip on Merlin’s shoulder. “Nothing. I wasn’t crying.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me it was over some servant girl who broke your heart.” He’d have to dismiss said servant girl, whoever she was. He already despised her.

Arthur hadn’t been home enough, apparently. He’d clung to the brief snatches of time in Camelot, soaking in Merlin’s retorts and smiles like summer sunshine before leaving on never-ending quests and missions without him.

In those short days home, he’d been, not too successfully, trying to express his _feelings_. He was beginning to think the copious amounts of chicken he’d invited Merlin to eat with him had been too subtle.

He would give anything to abandon the Moon Bear in order to woo Merlin into his arms, now that it was just of the two of them, but, alas, duty before dallying.

Merlin broke free and looked confused. “There’s no girl.”

“A man?” Arthur’s brows furrowed.

“Gods, _no_ ,” Merlin sputtered, his eyes threatening to bulge right out of his skull. “It’s not like that.”

Arthur raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Fine, then. Come along.”

Merlin seemed satisfied with Arthur’s answer, but still muttered something about “getting mauled.”

**  
“How do we open it? Should we smash it?” Merlin said as he squinted at the small orb in his hands.

The Moon Bear had made a second appearance, slashing through Merlin’s defense magic and leaving him with a bloody nose and a swollen jaw (now magically healed), while Arthur had acquired an opaque glass ball it left behind before running away.

A storm raged on outside the cave’s entrance, rain coming down in torrential sheets as thunder rumbled like sleeping lions. A small fire crackled and snapped, warming their chilled bones.

“Alright, then. Give it a go,” Arthur urged as they sat huddled together.

Merlin squinted back at him.

Arthur waggled his fingers. “Your magic?”

“Oh,” Merlin said sheepishly. Eyes flashing gold, the power he called forth in that strange foreign tongue skittered along Arthur’s skin, charging the air and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold the urge to tackle Merlin to the ground and do _something_.

With a soft _click_ , the orb cracked open a sliver.

“Well, that was too easy,” Arthur huffed.

Merlin grinned, lifting up the lid in order to peek inside. He shut it. “You’re not going to like this.”

“Give it to me, Merlin.”

Merlin handed it over.

Empty.

Arthur tossed it across the cave, shattering it to pieces. Merlin didn’t look surprised.

After a moment, Arthur said, “I never want to hear the words ‘Moon Bear’ ever again.”

“Same. Feels like my tooth’ll fall right out of my head.” Merlin winced as he touched his cheek.

“Didn’t you heal it? Let me see.” Arthur reached out. “Come now, Merlin. Say ‘Ah’—”

“Sod off, you prat. You are _not_ putting your hand—”

Arthur stuck his finger in Merlin’s mouth.

He squinted inside, feeling the tooth and subsequently hearing Merlin moan in pain. “It’s not going to fall out, idiot. It’s firmly”—when he pulled it out, bloody saliva strung from Merlin’s lips to his leather glove—“there.”

Overcome with a feeling of lust and curiosity, Arthur licked the glistening tip of his finger, tasting the musk of leather mixed with the tang of blood that went straight to his cock.

Merlin looked away, blushing to the tips of his ears.

“Merlin,” Arthur said. Feeling bold, he let his nails travel over Merlin’s cheeks, his thumb teasing those pink lips, bits of blood staining them crimson. “Why were you crying last night?”

“If I’m being honest, I may have been missing a certain clotpole,” Merlin said.

“You mean a certain dashing prince.”

“One and the same,” Merlin smiled. He closed the distance between them, straddling Arthur’s hips.

Arthur’s hands traveled under Merlin’s tunic, relishing in the soft, still damp skin. Tracing his lips along Merlin’s ear, he whispered, “I want to explore every inch of you.” He teased Merlin’s nipple, pinching the hardened flesh between his fingers.

Merlin gasped. “Arthur?”

“Yes?”

“You didn’t need chicken to win me over, you know.” Merlin deftly untied the strings of Arthur’s trousers, and then his own.

“ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur panted as he intertwined his fingers with Merlin’s, both of them rubbing their cocks together, slick and hot and bloody perfect.

Arthur finally kissed Merlin, sighing in relief of what felt like years of wanting and waiting. Beyond the sweet metallic flavour, he tasted something that reminded him of summer nights, earthy and magical.

With Merlin, he discovered life was a million and a half possibilities—all he had to do was want it, and with Merlin, he could achieve it.

 

24

 **Warnings:** Dub/Non-Con, Rough Sex  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin

After reading about the Adder Stone during one of his rare reading sessions, Uther decided he had to have it and sent Arthur after it in a heartbeat. The fact the stone could not only see through sorcerers disguises but also cure nightmares, he was certainly hitting two birds with one arrow. The king could finally cure his ward of her nightmares, while also getting the bonus of finding more sorcerers.

So Arthur, Merlin, Leon, and several other knights were sent to find it as soon as possible.

"Let's hope there aren't any wilderan to eat you in this cave." Arthur remarked with a snort.

"Please don't even joke about that." Merlin shot back with their usual banter.

They were currently making their way up a hill, almost to the top. And as they made their way over the curve and down to the foothill, a gorgeous field of blooming flowers came into view.

Taking a deep breath Merlin wondered what kind of plant it was. He had never read about it in Gaius' books and the physician himself had never mentioned it.

"Where are we?" The raven-haired boy asked, "I've never seen any kind of plant like this before, though I'm not complaining, it smells wonderful."

"It's called Dragon's Valley. It's not often travelled as it is quite out of the way of many places, but in our case it's the fastest way to Adder's Cave.” Arthur replied breathing in the perfume. The dragonlord took another deep breath, savoring the tingling sensation the sweet scent gave him.

~

Night would soon fall, so they set up camp for the night in the forest just beyond the field and by a lake. Merlin of course was in charge of firewood, a relatively easy job, but he was starting to feel ill. His head felt warm and he was starting to sweat, and by the time he made it back to camp he was dizzy and could barely stand.

"Merlin? Hey, are you feeling alright?" Arthur asked him rising to make his way over to his servant.

"I'm fine," Merlin replied breathlessly as he dumped the wood by the fire. "I'm just tir-" his knees gave way as he crumpled to the ground. By that point Arthur was by his side looking over his body.

“Let’s get you to a bedroll, I think you need some rest.” Arthur told him, slinging his arms around the pale boy to help him up.

“Thanks-” the warlock panted out, he seriously wasn't feeling good now.

By the time he made it to the bedroll, he had passed out. This worried Arthur greatly, as Merlin had the most medical knowledge.

“Sir Kay and Sir Gareth, please fetch some water and a couple more go see if you can find something for dinner.” The prince barked, repositioning his friend to be comfortable.

When Merlin awoke, he was still extremely warm and unexplainably aroused. He could almost feel in his soul that he needed to be taken.

Arthur was awake beside him, the others already asleep. “How are you feeling?” Arthur asked concern and something else written across his face.

He groaned, “I need you.” The pale boy replied.

Like that, the blonde was him up to go deeper in the woods. The prince soon found a moss patch to lay the raven-haired boy down. As soon as he was set down, he was being passionately kissed, which was quite eagerly returned.

Arthur snaked his hand into the midnight locks and pulled back to expose a pale, moonlit neck.  
Merlin moaned as the blonde left his mark upon the skin, overpowered by a primal urge to dominate.

“Mine.” Arthur growled as he ripped off clothes.

They were soon both naked in a flourish of kisses and eager hands.

“Flip.” The knight commanded, which Merlin easily obliged. Arthur was soon biting and grabbing at the dragonlord’s arse cheeks. They both had red hot erections, bobbing between their legs. Soon, Merlin was being taken. Arthur pushed in, hole somehow already sopping. He wanted to claim what was his.

“Mine!” Arthur chanted, ramming into his lover. The blonde grabbed his servant under the shoulder and around the hip, to press him against his chest. Arthur emptied his seed deep inside his lover, claiming him. Pumping him to a finish, Arthur flipped the slim boy around to give him gentle kisses and an embrace.

“You're all mine now.” Arthur told him.

“I'm forever yours.” Merlin replied.

 

25

 **Warnings:** Not quite voyeurism  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

There was a very good reason why Arthur had saved the kingdom of Ealdor for last in his quest to bring all of Albion under one banner, and that reason was sitting on the throne, all laid back and relaxed as if he and his courtiers weren’t completely surrounded by Arthur’s trusted knights and the sharp ends of their blades. Then again, king Emrys was not an enemy that could be beaten by physical force. Arthur may have managed to get into the very heart of Emrys’ kingdom, but that didn’t mean he was anywhere near defeated.

“Ahh, King Arthur,” Emrys said, nodding in acknowledgement when Arthur came to stand in front of the throne. “You finally deigned to show your face. I must admit I’m surprised. I had thought you’d be here to boast about your victory as soon as possible.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, King Emrys. I had some business to take care of,” Arthur said, which was an outright lie. In fact, he’d postponed confronting Emrys for as long as possible because he hadn’t quite been ready to face him despite all the years that had passed since the last time they’d laid eyes on each other. Morgana had called him a coward, and it pained him to realise she was right.

“Naturally,” Emrys said pleasantly as if he saw right through him. “I suppose I instead should be _honoured_ that you found the time to come see me despite the numerous things that must be on an _almost_ high king’s schedule.”

Arthur almost sighed. He should have expected the goading, and yet Emrys words stung with the memories they brought about. “I am not here to fight,” he tried.

“No, you’re here to try to force me to kneel.”

“You’ve already lost,” Arthur stated. “Your castle is surrounded; we’ve cut off all your chains of supplies, and it will only be a matter of time before your people starve.”

“Unless I surrender?”

“Unless you declare your fealty to me,” Arthur said and tried to keep the longing out of his voice. “Bend your knee before me; acknowledge me as the high king of Albion, and I’ll make you warden of the Druids and Ealdor. No one has to die.”

Emrys snorted. It contained no humour. “Funny,” he said. “And here I was convinced I’d already sworn fealty to you ages ago. Guess I made it up in my own head.”

Arthur swallowed, remembering the circumstances and the following regret all too vividly. “Then renew it,” he implored, knowing he was showing far too much emotion expected of a king, yet couldn’t bring himself to care on the off chance that it would bring Emrys back to him.

Emrys observed him for a long moment. His head slightly tilted, his eyes boring into Arthur’s as if he could read the answer to every question in the world in them. The moment seemed to stretch into eternity, and then, abruptly, he slid out of his throne and down on his knees in front of a startled Arthur. It wasn’t in the position of somebody kneeling in front of their king, but of somebody kneeling in front of their lover.

“Mer—Emrys!” Arthur choked out as Emrys hands pushed away Arthur’s hauberk and went for his trouser lacings, swiftly undoing them as he’d done a thousand times before.

“You wanted me to kneel, did you not?” Emrys said, looking up at Arthur through his long lashes.

“Not like _that_ ,” Arthur hissed and tried to push Emrys away, but to no avail. His arms felt strangely like lead, and his feet might as well have been embedded into the floor.

“No one will see,” Emrys said as he pushed down Arthur’s trousers, his hand grasping Arthur’s length to slowly coax life into it. “Look around.” He gestured to the rest of the throne room with his other arm.

Arthur did and found to his astonishment that each and every single one of Arthur’s knights and Emrys’ courtiers had been frozen in time, standing as still as stone, unseeing. It was stark a reminder of the power flowing through Emrys. He could have beaten Arthur’s forces with a single thought, and yet he was here kneeling before Arthur, about to perform an act so intimate, Arthur had refused to let anyone do it to him since Merlin was banished,

“Emrys…” Arthur tried It was a feeble protest he didn’t really feel, mostly uttered because he didn’t know what else to say. He was hard with want now, and if no one could see them, if no one would know, then surely…

Abruptly, Emrys swallowed him down, and Arthur gulped for breath at the wet heat of Emrys mouth, the slide of his lips around his cockhead, and the fire that burned away in his stomach. His fingers found Emrys hair, the strands as soft – if slightly longer – as he remembered them.

He didn’t last long, and afterwards, when Arthur had spilled into Emrys mouth, and they had both gathered their breaths, Arthur pulled Emrys to his feet and sealed their lips together in a scalding, branding kiss that tasted of semen, spit, and regret.

“I accept your oath,” he whispered when he drew back, meeting Emrys’ beloved blue eyes with his own.

Emrys, no— _Merlin_ smiled. The kind of wonderful and wondrous smile that Arthur had not seen for years.

Arthur smiled too. “I missed you,” he said and burrowed his face in Merlin’s shoulder. “Please forgive me.”

“I already have,” Merlin said and returned Arthur’s embrace.

 

26

 **Warnings:** none

 **Pairings:** Gwen/knights, Gwen/Merlin/Arthur, Gwen/Morgana

**Disul, first day of the week**

_What a way to begin the week,_ Gwen thinks as Lancelot thrusts into her. He’s between her thighs, looking down at her with the softest smile, and Gwen reaches for him, pulling him down into a kiss that’s just as sweet as his touch.

Gwen moans, arches into his caress while he thrusts harder, and then, just as she can feel her own climax approaching, he spills deep inside her, stilling his movement and leaving her wanting.

To make up for it, he licks his seed from her until she screams.

**Dilun, second day of the week**

It surprised her that he’s not the largest knight when it comes to this. He towers over most of them, and yet his prick – while not small by any definition – is less sizeable than she expected.

He makes up for it with skill, and Gwen sometimes wonders what all he’s done before Lancelot brought him here.

Percival has got her up against the beautifully woven carpet that’s decorating the wall in her chambers. The only thing holding her up are his arm around her middle and his powerful thighs as he thrusts into her, again and again. Once Percival has come, he doesn’t pull out of her, instead carrying her back to the bed, still locked inside her.

He resumes thrusting into her when they’re on the sheets, never even having gone soft. This time he makes her come before he does, and pulls out just before he climaxes, spilling onto her stomach.

Gwen teases him by tasting his seed, wiping it off her skin and licking it from her fingers until there’s nothing left. By the end of it, Percival is hard again.

**Dimeurzh, third day of the week**

Gwaine fucks her not just with his prick and fingers, but with his voice as well.

“Love being inside you,” he murmurs into her ear as he takes her from behind. “Perfect, taking my big prick so easily. You’re always so wet, I slide right in.”

His words are filthy and Gwen loves every moment of it. It’s true, she’s always wet for him whenever he appears at her door. For all of Gwaine’s bragging, he’s got the skills – and the prick – to back it up.

He can’t spend his seed as often as Percival, needs longer to recover from a climax too, but he keeps her up all night regardless.

It only ends once morning dawns and Gwen is utterly spent.

He always leaves her with a bow. “For the most beautiful lady in all the land.”

Gwen believes him every time.

**Dimerc’her, fourth day of the week**

The middle of the week brings with it familiarity. Leon’s not like the others and yet Gwen enjoys pleasing him more than anyone. She’ll take him into her mouth and watch him fall apart before she coaxes him back into hardness.

There’s rapt attention in Leon’s eyes whenever she does this for him, and she never takes her eyes off him as she straddles his hips and sinks down onto his length. She takes him as deeply inside her as she can. Rides him until he’s come with a drawn-out groan. Touches herself until she shudders above him, gasping with ecstasy.

He always stays the night to talk to her as they lie side by side, and strokes her hair. (She allows only him to do it.)

**Diyaou, fifth day of the week**

Mordred was clumsy at first, never having lain with anyone, but he was eager, and a quick learner. Now he knows exactly how to touch her, where to kiss and lick to give her the most pleasure.

And she’s showed him all that a partner could do for him. Like when he’s kneeling on the bed, braced on his forearms, and lets her use the smooth wooden phallus to pump in and out of his arse.

Mordred is beautiful in his submission, and Gwen makes sure to draw it out and make it good for him. He comes from being fucked open with the phallus, soiling the sheets. Gwen doesn’t mind, adores him still. She knows Mordred will clean it up as best he can with his tongue.

**Digwener, sixth day of the week**

The week’s almost over, and Gwen desperately needs her rest – that’s precisely when Arthur and Merlin show up at her door, inviting her to dinner and wine.

Gwen indulges them for dinner, but refuses the invitation into their bed. She does not refuse the invitation to stay and watch.

As it often does, watching turns into directing, and soon they’re putting on a show for her, touching each other exactly the way she demands.

In the end, Gwen can’t stop from reaching beneath her skirts and driving herself towards climax.

She spends the night in Arthur’s bed, nestled between the king and his lover, too drunk on wine and joy to return to her chambers.

**Disadorn, last day of the week**

It’s time to rest. The one day every week that she rejects all proposals and makes no invitations of her own. She wants nothing more than to sit in her chambers, and indulge in books.

She’s a queen every other day – this time belongs to just her.

A knock sounds at her door, and she calls to enter, believing it to be a servant.

She drops her needlework at the sight of who it actually is, and then Morgana kneels at her feet, begging Gwen for forgiveness.

It takes long to get everything out of Morgana, but in the end Gwen forgives her – of course she does – and that night, even though it’s her one night off, Gwen devotes endless hours to relearning Morgana’s body, making her gasp and moan, and conquering her once and for all lest Morgana ever wants to leave her again.

 

 

27

 **Warnings:** American AU  
**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin

The summer was almost over and Merlin still hadn't figured Arthur out. They'd been co-counselors of the middle-school boys for all eight weeks of camp, but Arthur was still an enigma.

And now they were standing in the middle of a field on top of the cliff Arthur had just made them hike. They were definitely no longer on camp property.

"How'd you know about this place?" Merlin asked.

"I grew up over there," Arthur said, pointing vaguely.

"Oh," Merlin said, some of the pieces of Arthur's puzzle falling into place.

"Where'd you grow up?" Arthur asked as he sprawled out on the grass.

"In the city. Same as all the kids. How… why do you work here?"

"Are you just going to stand there?"

Merlin rolled his eyes and sat down next to Arthur. "Why are you working here?"

"I want to be a teacher," Arthur said after a moment.

"Okay… sure. But why are you working at a summer camp for poor city kids if you grew up here in one of those comically oversized mansions?"

"Maybe I want to teach poor city kids. Is that a problem?"

"No," Merlin conceded. "I'm just curious. You've been very secretive all summer."

"I didn't want the kids to think I was different from them."

Merlin wasn't sure what to say to that, so he asked, "Why are we here?"

"To hide."

"We've been hiding for the scavenger hunt for weeks and we've never come here."

"I got sick of hiding under the canoes."

"It's not fair if we make it literally impossible for any of the kids to get the hundred-point bonus."

Arthur responded by leaning over and kissing Merlin.

"Um," Merlin said.

"Are you having a good summer?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm just making conversation," Arthur said innocently.

"Conversa--"

Arthur cut Merlin off with another kiss. Merlin paused, debating whether he wanted to pull back and argue and figure out what the hell was happening. When Arthur shifted closer, though, he decided not to fight it.

Growing up, he'd caught wind of so many romances between the camp's counselors. He'd been enthralled by the idea of the secret things the staff got up to when everyone was supposed to be tucked away in their bunks at night.

This summer was almost over and he wanted something--anything--to happen. He wanted his sexy camp hook-up story, and Arthur suddenly seemed more than willing to be that.

"What do you want to do?" Arthur asked, pulling back.

"Whatever," Merlin muttered, surprised at how much he already missed Arthur's lips against his own.

"Can I blow you?"

Merlin's cock throbbed at the idea and he nodded.

Arthur grinned--Merlin wondered how he'd failed to notice how endearing Arthur's crooked teeth were--and made quick work of undoing Merlin's jeans and yanking them down on his thighs, along with his boxers.

Without warning, Arthur ducked down and took Merlin's whole cock into his mouth.

"Jesus," Merlin choked out, grabbing onto Arthur's hair.

Arthur pulled back so slowly that Merlin nearly forgot how to breathe. When his lips reached the head of Merlin's cock, he sucked briefly before switching gears and licking Merlin all over.

"I'm-- _Arthur_ ," he groaned, trying to hold back as Arthur's enthusiasm suddenly grew two-fold.

Arthur sank his mouth back down around Merlin's cock and worked his throat. Merlin whimpered and tightened his hold on Arthur's hair.

"I'm coming," he warned, arching into the tension pooling in his middle. "I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm--"

In retrospect, Merlin was grateful for how isolated they were, because he was pretty sure that was the loudest orgasm he'd ever had. Normally, he was very quiet--his mother's house and his college's dorm rooms didn't allow for much privacy--but he hadn't had any control over the moans spilling out of his mouth as Arthur had sucked him dry.

"Holy shit," he managed, panting. "Fuck." He stared up at the sky, wondering how it had gotten so dark so quickly, and tried to catch his breath.

Arthur sat back on his haunches and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. His lips were plump and red, and the bulge in his jeans was entirely too distracting.

"Turn around," Merlin said, pushing himself up.

"What?"

"Turn. Around."

Arthur looked skeptical but he turned around, pushing his jeans down as he did so, and settled between Merlin's legs.

"Why--oh, _yeah_." Arthur groaned and leaned back against Merlin's chest as Merlin got a hand around his cock. "Fuck, Merlin."

Merlin bit down on Arthur's neck, suppressing a shiver at how good his name sounded being moaned out like that.

Arthur grabbed onto Merlin's thighs and said something--or tried to, but it came out as unintelligible, mumbled sounds--and then he was coming onto the grass. He was mostly quiet as he came, letting out only a few labored sighs, but Merlin could tell how much he liked it from how hard he was gripping Merlin's legs.

"Do you always go commando?" Merlin asked eventually, wiping his hand off on the grass.

"Yeah."

"That's hot."

Arthur chuckled and got to his knees to tuck himself in. He turned around for a kiss, and Merlin could taste his own come on Arthur's tongue.

"We should get back."

"What? Oh, fuck, what time is it?"

Arthur checked his watch. "Dessert's in ten minutes."

"We missed the whole scavenger hunt."

"Yeah. But now we've both closer to winning the counselors' bingo."

Merlin felt his mouth drop open. He'd forgotten about the papers the high-school counselor, Gwaine, had sneakily passed around during their week of training. Each square had a different experience in it, like getting puked on by a camper, contracting poison ivy, and, of course, hooking up with another counselor.

"You're--I can't believe--" Merlin paused, registering the way Arthur's lips were trembling as he tried not to laugh. "You're full of shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you can! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](http://pornalot.livejournal.com/9856.html)

28

 **Title:** Think of Me  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Gwaine 

Merlin presents Gwaine with a gift before leaving on a solitary quest, hoping that, in his absence, it will remind Gwaine of him.  


 

29

 **Warnings:** Explicit Sexual Content  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Gwaine/Arthur/Percival 

Any nerd worth their salt knows a thing or two about quests, be it from tabletop Dungeons and Dragons or the Virtual realities filled with magical worlds and exciting universes. But what do our characters get up to when we log off?  
What exciting quests do they go on in our absence? 

[](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/vanhelsing019/69987612/10474/10474_original.jpg)

 

30

 **Warnings:** Abuse of Boardgames, Top Merlin and Bottom Arthur  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin

[](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/eisbaerfussel/82944771/871/871_original.jpg)

 

31

 **Warnings:** nudity (maybe not necessary to warn about this for this fest, haha...)  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

Yes, this is basically a play on the "fountain of youth", lol... In case it's tricky to read the font, the text is also here:

I WELCOME YOU TO MY ABODE  
OUR MEETING HAS BEEN LONG FORETOLD

WITH BATTLES WON AND WEARY FEET  
YOUR EPIC QUEST IS NEAR COMPLETE

ETERNAL LIFE IS YOUR DESIRE  
TO LIGHT YOUR SOUL THEN STOKE THE FIRE

SO YOU MAY FIGHT FOR THOSE WHO CAN’T  
AND OFFER ALL ONE KING CAN GRANT

WITH DREAMS OF PEACE AND HEART SO PURE  
YOUR FATAL FORM HAS EARNED MY CURE

BUT WITH THIS GIFT, ACCEPT ONE MORE  
WEAVE TWO IMMORTALS IN THE LORE

GIVE ME YOUR TOUCH, MAKE FLESH FROM STONE  
AND YOU SHALL NEVER BE ALONE

COME FORTH, DISROBE, ENTER MY BATH  
SO TO BEGIN US ON OUR PATH

YOU’VE PROVEN STRONG, NOW SHOW ME WEAK  
FALL TO YOUR KNEES AND MAKE ME LEAK

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and show our dedicated porners some love!


End file.
